Ravnica: The Scion of Mat'Selesnya
by Elvish Prince
Summary: Set right after the exciting events of Ravnica: City of Guilds, the city is once again in peril. Someone...or something is threatening the very existence of the Guildpact, and the fate of the entire city rests on the shoulders of a single, elven child.
1. A Glimpse of the Past

Ravnica: The Scion of Mat'selesnya

Chapter 1

She was unity. Hers was the heart of the Guildpact. Without her, the laws that bound the guilds of Ravnica would have fallen into chaos long ago. This wasn't just a Selesnyan belief. It was history.

---------Fonn, half-elf leved, speaking of Mat'selesnya

0 Z.C.

Twelve… 

One sweet, lilting voice broke in waves over all of the beings gathered together. At once, it produced a hush and stilled the roiling and tumultuous crowd. Even the dark Devkarians, the fearsome Cisarzim, and the holy Razia herself paused to listen. A second voice joined the first, followed soon by a third, a fourth, a fifth…More voices joined until there were a dozen in all. Twelve dryads faced the crowd, their voices melding into one and as their voices joined into a stimulating chorus, their actual bodies were melding together as well. Slowly yet surely, they were literally succumbing to the belief that all would one day join the Conclave, becoming truly unified in mind, body, and spirit. When the transformation was complete they had transformed into a giant female shape, beautiful beyond belief. Long golden tresses spilled around the creature, covering her entire body, clothing her in a natural covering of pure gold. Light streamed from her body, light that was so bright, only her face could be seen through the brilliance. Her emerald eyes seemed filled with grace, holiness, and innocence, and only the purest could withstand her penetrating stare for more than a few moments. Her lips curved in a soft smile, causing the weakest present to tremble in pure ecstasy or holy fear, while the strongest seemed to feel almost light-headed. A few moments of silence descended on the gathering, for everyone seemed to be in awe of this wondrous, wise, and benevolent being. The Archangel Razia, the only one to be seemingly unaffected by the powerful goddess before them, was the first to break the silence.

"You have a proposition to make?" the angel asked, her voice strong and commanding.

"Yes, I do," said the woman, speaking for the first time in a voice distinctly different from Razia's, "I am Mat'selesnya, formed from the purest and holiest dryads of the Selesnyan Conclave. My song will weave all guilds together to bind all, from the lowliest goblin to the highest angel, to this guildpact."

"No! How you do that? That not possible, no magic that strong!" growled Cisarzm.

Mat'selesnya turned her glowing eyes on Cisarzm, and after just one second, he was looking at the ground in shame.

"I trust that answers any doubters," said Mat'selesnya, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips once again, "Now, is the guildpact truly ready, and have all bound themselves to this contract?"

"Yes, all have signed and all that remains is to create a magic of binding, a magic so strong, none will dare cross the precepts set forth in this guildpact," replied a balding man in blue and white robes.

"I will form that magic, in fact, I will become one with the magic! For as long as I live, all will be bound to this pact, and any who break the pact will be punished by the holiest of all powers," said Mat'selesnya.

"Yes, and those who seek to undermine the guildpact or slip under the spells that bind it in any way will answer to my justice," spoke Razia, her voice echoing throughout the field.

Mat'selesnya's eyes flashed, and as they did so, the entire area was bathed in blessed light, blinding all, except for maybe the archangel. Szadek, the Lord of Whispers, hissed something under his breath, his voice producing a medium between fear and anger, but he kept his counsel to himself. Mat'selesnya opened her mouth, and a song so beautiful it stirred even the darkest hearts poured forth. At last, Mat'selesnya's song was finished, and she paused, as if she had exerted for much more than just a few moments.

"All have agreed to the guildpact, and so shall it be. Any who break the laws will be broken by the power that I have drawn from the hearts of all here. Let peace reign for all time, and may all walk in the light of holiness," Mat'selesnya finally spoke, almost singing instead of speaking.

The contract the balding man held began to glow with a green light as the bright and holy light that had engulfed the area disappeared. In another few moments, the green light coalesced into a single, giant emerald, which promptly sailed through the air, and fastened itself to Mat'selesnya's forehead.

"It is done then, the magic of the guildpact will be bound in me for all time," whispered Mat'selesnya in a trance-like state, "But I leave yet one more gift, a gift to all who are bathed in the holy light, and maybe to some of those who are not."

She waved her hand, and a glittering ball of sparkling energy, somehow seeming to have been created from her very essence, appeared in the air. It floated to a cluster of dryads, not unlike the ones who had given away their identities to become Mat'selesnya herself.

"Why you give gift only to friends? Not fair, I say! Not fair!" roared Cisarzim.

"She will give gifts to whom she pleases, and you will keep your mouth closed!" said Razia, her eyes flashing fire.

"No! Me not calm down! Me crush everyone with hammer!" yelled Cisarzim.

Before anyone could react, he raised his hammer, and swung directly at Mat'selesnya's head. Mat'selesnya did not twitch and eyelash, even as the hammer swung nearer and nearer. At the last moment, a silver light encased her entire body, and as soon as the hammer touched it, it disintegrated into dust. The Cyclops stared at Mat'selesnya in terror, his mouth moving but no sounds coming out. Mat'selesnya shook her head wearily, a pained expression on her face, causing everyone to feel guilty, whether they had done something to harm her or not.

"I am tired…so very tired…I will not stay here in the world much longer…I must meditate, protect the souls who join the Great Beyond…Take care of my Scion, my sisters, for it is my gift to you. Care for it, I beg you, for as long as it takes you to nurture, though you may grow weary. And when it has come to its fullness, it will bring you great joy, though I fear I foresee great sorrow must come to pass before the joy," said Mat'selesnya, her voice growing fainter and fainter.

The dryads gingerly touched the light, to find it soft and palpable, and easy to hold. One of them, Laitara by name, cradled it in her arms as if it were a child. Mat'selesnya smiled, and reached out to touch the light gently, stroking it as if she were stroking the hair of a newborn infant.

"Sleep well, my dear, and though you may not see me for ten thousand of years, know I will always be a part of you," she whispered, just as her body erupted with a silver glow.

The glow surrounded her body and solidified into a hard casing. Branches sprouted from the casing, thrusting themselves into the sky in every direction. Multi-colored leaves shot from the ends of the branches, until Mat'selesnya could no longer be seen. All that was left was a beautiful silver-barked tree full of luscious leaves. For the last time, Mat'selesnya's voice spoke.

"This is Vitu Ghazi, the Tree of Life. Tend it well, my sisters. Tend it well, all you who are holy and live in the light. In time, it will produce fruit, blessed fruit that shall protect those who live in holiness. The light…bless…all of you…"

The light Laitara held seemed to shimmer, and a few shimmering drops sprinkled from it onto the ground, as if it were crying.

"Shhh…it's alright, dear Scion of Mat'selesnya, you will be safe, and even in her sleep, the great Mat'selesnya will watch over you," whispered Laitara.

The light seemed to consider that for a moment, and then, at least to the eyes of those watching, it curled up in Laitara's arms and relaxed.

10,000 Z.C.

Ten thousand years in the future, Lieutenant…no…now Shift-Captain Agrus Kos shook his head as he looked at the lifeless body of a young male elf. Like all the others, this one seemed to have died from an inexplicable cause. Other than being abnormally pale, there seemed to be nothing wrong with this victim. Also, like the other victims, this elf was only a child, at least according to elvish standards, and he had the same pale, golden hair and eyes as green as emeralds as the other unfortunates had possessed.

"Another one, huh Linall?" sighed Kos, turning to the honey haired yet stern featured woman beside him.

"Yes, the labmages have not assessed the causes yet, but I'll bet all they'll assess are a lot of dead ends once again," said Linall in a stern, military-bred voice.

Linall, officially known as Lieutenant Trianna Linall, was a pretty, slender woman with braids the color of pale honey and lips that would shame even the most beautiful of roses. To some, mostly the inexperienced and a few who were experienced but just plain stupid, Lieutenant Linall looked to be a soft and weak woman. Those who harbored these thoughts and acted on them usually ended up with some part of their body broken, a fat lip, or bruises the size of golf balls all over their body. A couple unfortunates were even given "extended leaves of absence due to extraneous yet unknown causes", but Kos and many others certainly knew these leaves had something to do with letting their mouths run to freely around Linall. If there was anything Linall abhorred most, it had to be those talking too much and too long about matters other than the case at hand, especially if they were talking about her looks too freely.

"I assess that your assessment will be right," said Kos in a tired voice, wearily rubbing his head, "And all this just gives me more paperwork. Just what I need…For once I'd like to just handle a case instead of writing about it! All this paperwork makes me want to tear my hair out by the roots!"  
"That might be hard to do…" murmured Linall with a teasing look at the prominent feature of his forehead, his receding hairline.

Kos scowled at her, and growled, "When you're one hundred and eleven years old, I'd like to see _you _look this good! Besides, I'm a Shift-captain now, you should learn to respect your superiors."

Kos grimaced as he said the word "shift-captain", as if he were tasting acid or bile in his mouth. Ever since his promotion, he had essentially had to leave behind all actual field-work, and was forced to sit for at least twelve hours a day in a cramped cubicle, filing and filling out gigantic amounts of "darn paperwork." That he had even been allowed to witness this crime scene had been a special concession made to him by his superiors, due to the "abnormal level of similar crimes in the Tenth District". As if he even knew what that meant anyway…

"Oh, pardon me for my…forwardness, Captain," said Linall, smiling mock-sincerely, "But I wasn't talking about your, uh, follicle problem, I was talking about you getting the superiors to let you actually work on a case. Now that you mention it, though, tearing your hair out might not be a good idea, considering you only have a limited amount remaining."

Kos's scowl deepened, but he bit back the retort that had popped into his mind. Most likely, when he was a Lieutenant, he would have had no problem telling Linall what he thought of her statements. Now that he was a Shift-captain, he found himself slowly but surely becoming more polite. Thinking of that, however, put him into an even worse mood, and caused a growl to form in the back of his throat.

"You don't sound well, Captain. According the code of the Wojek, I believe you should return to your proper duties at once and leave these cases to professionals like myself," Linall smirked.

"I've been solving cases since before you were born," said Kos, his growl turning into a bark, "Don't try to tell me about proper duties!"

"Sir, with all due respect, it sounds like you need a nap," said Linall, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

The seriousness in her face, however, served to incite Kos' already volatile temper to a fever pitch. Newly found tact or not, there were certain discourtesies that could not and would not be tolerated!

"I'll do as I darn well please, Lieutenant! You are dismissed!" roared Kos.

"But sir, Captain, it is my case, and as such my duty to inspect further aspects of the crime," said Linall, somehow managing to sound as if she were talking patiently to a five-year-old, "Please, go get some rest, a drink, a wife, something to calm your nerves."

Kos stared at her, his jaws working but only infuriated gasps came out. Linall continued to face him with a calm, level stare, never flinching or backing down.

Finally, Kos was able to speak coherently, "I suspend you from the crime scene!" he practically screamed, "As a senior officer, I am taking care of this…job!"  
"But sir-," began Linall, the first hints of discomfiture on her face, "You can't…"

"I can, and I will!" said Kos, getting his temper under control, yet speaking icily, "You're lucky I'm not suspending you from the case entirely!"  
"B-but…you can't…your superiors…" stammered Linall.

"You are relieved of your duties for now, Lieutenant," said Kos, his voice still icy, "Best go before I decide to inflict harsher penalties."

Linall sighed patiently, still trying to act as if he were only a child, and walked sedately away, her head held high.

"Move it!" barked Kos.

To his slightly surprising and somehow embarrassing satisfaction, she scurried away from the scene in response to his command. He turned to the stunned labmages who only a few moments before had entered the area where the crime had taken place.

"What are you staring at? You wanna join her in suspension?" he asked, a wicked grin on his face, "Get to work, I have a case to wrap up!"

With many protests of innocence the labmages scurried to do their jobs.

Hours later, Kos was tempted to pull his hair out by the roots as he had threatened to do before as he headed to one of the local bars, the Iron Minotaur. Once again, like all the other reports, the cause of this murder had proved to be inconclusive. All the mages could say was that the elven youth had died of sudden yet inexplicable cardiac arrest. There was no evidence of any violence done to the elf; his heart had just stopped. Kos sighed because he knew that whenever there were cases that could not be explained by science, there always had to be some type of magic involved. But what kind of people would use such dangerous magic?

Ever since the near fiasco involving the large bicentennial Selesnyan Conclave, where the ambitious Golgari priestess Savra had corrupted the Selesnyans and turned their quiet-men into killing machines and Szadek had appeared and attempted to suck the life of Mat'selesnya herself, the entire Selesnya Guild had withdrawn within itself. Besides, much as he hated to admit it, the Selesnyan's didn't really do violence, and in all fairness, the whole quiet-men episode had ultimately been Szadek's fault, not theirs. Of course, he would never suspect any of the Boros Legion, his own guild, of using that kind of magic. Besides, even Boros Guildmages didn't have that type of power.

The Golgari might have been able to do it, what with their views of life and death as a cycle. Ever since Jarad had taken over the Guild, however, and the forces Ludmilla had assembled under Savra's commands had been forced into submission, the Golgari had actually been pretty quiet. Szadek had been captured, and was locked safely away in the strongest Boros containment chamber, so the Dimir could not possibly be involved.

The Simic and the Izzet were far too concerned in the health of the planet and the success of their experiments, respectively, to have any interest in just randomly killing blond haired, green-eyed elves, even if they could have created an injection to simulate cardiac arrest. Gruul were leaderless and scattered, and if they murdered, it wouldn't be with magic or in sneaky, underhand ways.

The Orzhov only killed and/or tortured those who owed them debts, and Kos seriously doubted every single one of the twenty-odd elves murdered had a debt to pay to Orzhov Guild. The Azorius, of course, were the law, and he doubted that unless they had been planning to murder certain elves for thousands of years, they wouldn't have even gotten past the debating stage yet. That left the most obvious choice, the bloodthirsty Rakdos. They killed for the pleasure of killing, disregarding age, race, gender, or guild. And that was wherein the problem lie. The Rakdos would not pick specific targets; they would capture, torture, and murder anyone anytime. Besides, victims of Rakdos bloodsport, as it was called, were horribly mutilated after death, often whole limbs ripped off their bodies, and they were always covered in blood. The elvish victims had no signs of violence done to them, other than the unexplained stoppage of their hearts.

As these thoughts floated through his mind, Kos had unconsciously taken a seat in the bar and had somehow ordered a drink. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, angry at himself for going through such a…well…logical process. Before, he would have gotten to the root of the problem right away. Twenty or more minutes of thinking and he still hadn't deducted a single clue to solve even one aspect of the mysterious murders. That's what this whole stupid Shift-Captain business had done to him. As he drank more and more, however, his thoughts became clouded and soon he had drowned his troubles in oblivion…

After an amount of time Kos could not remember, he found himself sitting bleary eyed, face to face with commander-general Migellic. To his dismay, Lieutenant Linall was there as well, that aggravating look of infinite patience on her face. There were others too, but he couldn't sort them out from the haze that had descended over his mind. Suddenly, he realized Migellic was speaking, and probably had been speaking for some time. Slowly, the words penetrated the fog that seemed to have formed an utterly impenetrable barrier around his brain.

"….and as a result of this, much valuable time has been wasted in Lieutenant Linall's investigation. Plus, as I have said about a million times, getting completely and utterly drunk is completely against the mandates of the Boros. You know the angels look down on that sort of thing anyway. Even if they aren't here with us at the moment, I'm sure they know what we've been doing. What would Feather say if she were here?" said Migellic's voice, though it seemed slow and somewhat garbled.

Kos missed some of the words, but he distinctly heard the name of his angelic friend, Feather, and his head perked up.

"Feather? She's a good looking' lass, ain't she?" he drawled, not even knowing what he was saying, "Wish she were here now…"

"I do too," said Migellic severely, "She would whip some sense into you. How many times have you done this, Kos? Years of good service aside, where would you be now? You'd be out of gold, out of work, and out of luck. From now on, I expect you to deport yourself as a model Shift-Captain. You listening to me, Captain Kos?"

"Yea, yea…" murmured Kos, vaguely feeling like he had missed something important, "Don't port wine into a model building until sundown…"

Migellic sighed half-angrily, half-wearily.

"I don't have time for this," he muttered, "Linall, escort Captain Kos home, and make sure he goes to bed."

"Me sir?" asked Linall in distaste.

"You have a problem with that?" asked Migellic, sizing her up with a hard eye.

"No sir," said Linall quickly, "I'll make sure he doesn't get out of bed if I have to tie him to the bedpost."  
"And I won that battle…hic…Szadek didn't have a chance against me!" cried Kos loudly, pointing up into the air in a triumphant gesture.

Linall sighed as she helped Kos to his feet, "Come on, Kos. Best get home and get to bed. The sooner you face the consequences of too much alcohol consumption, the sooner you get back to work."

"Back to work…Yea, I'm the best there is…ain't no one better!" said Kos with a laugh.

"Of course there isn't," said Linall in a soothing voice, "Now, come on, Captain."

Deep in the Golgari underground, a male elf sat brooding in the small room he occupied. His long black tresses fell to his shoulders, and his dark eyes glinted with a dangerous light. A skull mask was flipped backwards so as to reveal his thin, pale face set with glaring, icy blue eyes. He didn't need the mask now anyway; he only used it when he was hunting or searching for a bounty. It was rare when he was not doing either of those things, but now was one of those rare times. In fact, he was strangely just sitting and thinking, something he rarely did. He was brooding over the increasing number of murders over the past few months. If they had just been holy, Selesnyan fools who cared for nothing except their precious Conclave and their stupid songs, then he might not have been as worried. But a few of the rare blonde-haired, green-eyed elves belonging to the Golgari Guild had been murdered as well. Killing sanctimonious fools was all well and good, if not done too often, but if this being was powerful enough to destroy even Devkarians, the dark elves of the Golgari clan, then he…or she…or it was a force to be reckoned with.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he also felt a small amount of pity for the Selesnyan elves as well. He tried to convince himself it was because he shared a common race for them, but in his heart of hearts he knew it was his attraction to Fonn, the half elf leved, that made him pity all the elves, not just the Golgari ones. He shook his head in frustration, this wasn't how a Golgari was supposed to think or feel, especially not the leader of the Golgari Guild. The Golgari viewed life and death as an endless cycle, each leading into the other, life often mingling with cruel death. Yet here he was, feeling sorry for those he had died. And the deaths weren't violent or that noticeable either, not the kind of deaths one would blame the Rakdos or even the Gruul for. The Izzet, with their fancy experiments and compounds, could have come up with an injection that would have left no visible marks and stopped the elf's heart cold, but why had it only been elves? And why only blonde haired, green-eyed elves for that matter? Besides, Niv-Mizzet, the dragon guildmaster of the Izzet, would never allow such cold-hearted callousness. If he wanted anyone killed, he would do it in a passion of fiery rage.  
Jarad, for that was the name of this particular Devkarian elf, shook his head in frustration. Somewhere, someone was most likely plotting another death. And if no one stopped this killer soon, who knew what tolls this mysterious murderer could take on the Golgari…and the Selesnya as well? Jarad gripped one of the knives he kept hidden under his clothes, tightening his hand on the hilt. Wherever this murderer was, Jarad swore in his mind he would find him or her, and bring that person to justice, no matter what it took or whom he had to go through.

A man swathed in dark clothes glanced furtively about as he hefted the squirming, wriggling sack he carried on his back into a more comfortable position. He grimaced something lashed from the bag and hit him on the back of the neck, wishing he had placed a more potent sleeping spell on his victim. Fortunately, the victim could not escape the bag, and that was the main thing. The figure froze as a 'jek passed by, making his nightly rounds. The 'jek suddenly paused, as if he sensed danger in the air, but soon he sighed, muttering to himself as he passed out of view. The figure let go of a sigh he hadn't realized he had been holding. It's not that he couldn't have killed the 'jek easily, it's just he was fairly certain the prisoner in the sack was the one his masters wanted. If he lost his prize, his masters would be displeased. They might be so displeased, they would strip him of rank, dignity, maybe even his life. Besides, life wouldn't be worth living if he were stripped of his rank anyway, for he would be jeered, laughed at, and trampled underfoot by one and all.

After checking to make sure the coast was clear once again, the figure darted across the open street and into a back alley, upending a trashcan. He froze when he heard the sound of footsteps. Silently cursing his carelessness, the black clad figure raced down the alleyway and into the shadows of an abandoned church. He paused as the footsteps neared the church and slowed.

"I heard something around here…" said a male voice, "Don't know what it could be."

"This place is full of ghost, probably one of them. I still say you heard things, Lorus," said a cool female voice.

"Ghosts don't randomly upend trashcans, Jilad. I know what I heard!" growled the male voice.

"Come on, Lorus, let's go. There's nothing here, okay?" laughed the female.

Apparently, her laughter convinced the man, and he sighed in defeat.

"Alright, let's go, but if it was something, it'll be on your head," he growled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," giggled the woman's voice as both voices faded out of earshot.

The figure cursed himself mentally once again. That had been too close, he was getting careless, and the masters did not abide carelessness. If those 'jeks had caught him and taken his prize…no, he wouldn't think of it. Best to report to his masters now. Carefully he untied the sack, but for all his trouble, a thin, wiry arm shot out and a fist collided with his nose. Almost casually, he grabbed the hand in a vise-like grip and pulled a young elven male with blond hair and startling green eyes out of the sack.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you," laughed the man.

"Filthy coward, sneaking up on me in the dark! Are you afraid to fight a true Devkarian warrior!" roared the elf, struggling in the man's grasp.

"No, I'm afraid I am not. Unfortunately for you, my masters wish to see you, and I had to keep you whole for your special audience with them," said the hooded man, almost giggling in glee.

Even if this elf weren't the one his masters were looking for, he would have fun with him afterwards. That is, if his masters allowed him to stay alive after all his failures. The elf tried to uppercut the dark man with his free fist, but the man caught the other hand in an iron grip as well, sinking his nails into the elf's flesh. The elf cried out in pain as blood oozed from the wounds, but the hooded man only smiled. Suddenly, a dark chill swept through the room, suppressing even the elf's cries of pain. A thin, filmy cloud descended into the abandoned church, a church the Orzhov had left in disrepair because the decorations hadn't been quite exactly to their liking, or something like that. As the cloud dispersed, a humanoid figure in a color somewhere between black and deep purple swirled into view. The elf made gurgling noises in his throat, too afraid to speak. The captor of the elf knelt on one knee, forcing the elf to do the same.

"My master, I have found another one, as you have requested," said the captor in a subservient voice.

"I tire of mistakes, Delmad, why is this one any different?" hissed the new arrival in an eerie, frightening voice.

"I promise you, this one has the spark you seek! I can feel it myself!" said the captor, almost laughing, "Now may I have my reward?"

The master contemplated the horror stricken elf and the man cloaked in black for a moment, and in the darkness, they could almost feel its terrible, wicked grin.

"Oh yes, you shall have your reward. Both of you!" laughed the master.

The elf screamed, and soon the elf's captor joined him as a cloud of darkness enveloped them both. If the cloud hadn't engulfed them and destroyed them in seconds, their screams would surely have brought someone running. But as it only lasted a few moments, no one heard anything.

"Worthless fools…" muttered the master before disappearing in a translucent mist.


	2. A Tale of Tragedy

Chapter 2

And he preached to the people, and they listened to his words. None could hear him and be unmoved; through his passion and zeal, none would wish to be separate from the Conclave any longer. And we hate it…

--------------- Devkarian priestess, speaking of Tolsimir Wolfblood

\

Skyler Lapis Lazulius woke to the early morning sunlight streaming into his window. The light glistened in his hair, causing it to shimmer like spun gold. His eyes sparkled with happiness, as they almost always did, glistening like two beautiful emeralds. As he got out of bed, he excitedly remembered that today was a very special day. It was his tenth birthday, and both his mother and father had been hinting at a certain special surprise. Though ten years of age was quite young for an elf, it marked his transition from an _elevera_, which in essence meant 'infant', to a _riershia_, an elven year old youth or child. Hurriedly, he donned a snow-white tunic and off-white pants. He then turned to his dresser and picked up the lovely golden necklace that lay there. A locket hung at the end of the gold chain, and a large emerald embedded in the locket shimmered in the morning light, casting patterns over the walls of his room. He had possessed the locket for as long as he could remember, and his parents had told him it was very special and very important, and that he must always keep it safe. After snapping it around his neck, he took a look around his room to make sure everything was in place, and then quickly opened his door.

He skipped happily down the stairs and smiled when he saw his mother preparing something that looked suspiciously like his favorite breakfast meal. Veldria-Illania Religian was a hauntingly beautiful, slender elf with icy blue eyes and hair so blonde that it looked almost to be white as snow.

"Morning, momma!" the young elf said happily, running to give his mother a hug.

"Good morning, Sky, my darling!" said Veldria in a sweet, lilting voice, hugging her precious son back tenderly, "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yep, 'course I did, momma!" laughed Sky, "Even though I was really excited about today, I finally got to sleep."

"Yes, today is very special, and I'm sure you'll have lots of fun," said Veldria with a twinkle in her eyes, "Now, go and sit down, baby. I'll bring you your favorite breakfast."

"Kay momma, but I'm not a baby anymore," giggled Sky.

"You are until after the ceremony tonight. I can't believe you'll be riershia; it seems only a few days you were just a tiny little baby that I could dandle on my knee," sighed Veldria, turning back to the food as Sky took a seat in his accustomed spot at the table.

"Awww, momma…" said Sky in mock despair.

Veldria smiled at him as she brought his food over to him and ruffled his hair.

"I'm just kidding, dear, I guess you can't stay a baby forever, can you?" she asked fondly, "Now, eat up, you have a big day ahead of you!"  
"Okay, mommy!" smiled Sky, setting to his breakfast of waffles covered in blueberry syrup.

Just as Sky was putting his dishes into the sink, his father strode in through the front door, his usually kind face uncharacteristically stern. Galladran Religian seemed to be older than his wife, though with elves it was hard to tell. His jet black hair was lined with just a few streaks of silver, and there were just a few lines around his warm, brown eyes. Sky immediately sensed his father's mood, and ran to throw his arms around Galladran.

"What's wrong, Dadda?" he asked in worry.

Galladran hesitated for a moment before replying, "It's nothing that should harm you, my son. Mother and I will take care of it."

Veldria looked up, question and just a touch of fear in her eyes, though she tried to hide it for Sky's sake.

"Is it bad, Galladran, dear?" asked Veldria uncertainly.

"I'm afraid so, Veldria. We'll have to ward Sky…" he sighed, looking down at his son tenderly yet fearfully.

"Oh, Gallad, it isn't that bad, is it?" cried Veldria.

Galladran nodded his head silently.

Veldria took a deep breath and closed her eyes, but when she opened them, they were full of determination.

"They won't have our son, Gallad, we will hold them off like we've done so many times before!" cried Veldria.

For a few moments, Galladran didn't answer, as Sky stared up at him with frightened eyes.

"Gallad? Darling? They won't win, will they?" pressed Veldria.

"Of course not, Veldria, but to be on the safe side, we must take Sky to the warded room," said Galladran quietly.

"What's the warded room, Dadda?" asked Sky, still frightened.

Galladran knelt down to look Sky directly in the eyes. He hated telling his son the truth, but there was no other way.

"Sky…my son…there are bad people who want to take you away from us and hurt you. My friends and I have always driven off those people before, but now there are a lot of them, maybe more than dadda can handle. That's why we have to take you somewhere safe, somewhere they won't get you even if momma and dadda fail," spoke Galladran, his voice tender yet holding a note of seriousness.

"People wanna hurt me? Why? Did I do something bad?" asked Sky, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"No, precious, they are bad people. That's why they want to hurt you, because you're sweet and good. They don't like people like that," sighed Veldria.

"I-I don't understand, momma," whispered Sky, tears starting to spring into his eyes.

"Don't cry, baby, don't cry!" exclaimed Veldria, as Galladran picked up their son gently, "Everything will be alright. We'll defeat those bad men, and then we'll finish your party."

Galladran gave his wife a look, as if to say "Don't falsely get the poor child's hopes up." Veldria glared at him, daring him to say anything different, and he looked at the ground as the two hurried out the back door.

"So that warded room's out here? And it'll be safe, right Dadda? You and Momma will stay with me, won't you?" asked Sky innocently.

"Momma and Dadda have to fight, my child, to protect you," replied Galladran wearily.

"B-but I don't want you to go!" wailed Sky piteously.

"I know, I know," soothed his mother, "But there isn't any other way. We'll be back before you know it."

"And if we don't come back," said Galladran, ignoring his wife's glare, "Then no one but a member of the Selesnya Conclave will be able to undo the wards that protect you and keeps you in here. If it comes to that, whoever the Selesnyan Conclave sends, you will know you can trust them. And don't worry, there will be plenty of food and comfort for you in the warded room."

"But I won't have Momma and Dadda…" sniffled Sky sadly.

"Don't be afraid, my dear Skyler, we shall be victorious, and we will be back!" Veldria said, giving him a hug, trying desperately not to cry.

Galladran handed Sky to Veldria, and closed his eyes, folding his hands as if in prayer. Silence descended over the entire area, even the birds ceased their twittering and chirping.

"Volosh!" cried Galladran in a loud voice that effectively shattered the stillness.

At once, the wall of ivy the three were facing began to morph and mutate, until a doorway opened. Sky held tightly to his mother and she went inside, followed quietly by her husband. Inside was a small room that seemed to somehow be an exact replica of the kitchen in their cottage. Everything from the green and white lace curtains to the tablecloth sewn from leaves looked exactly the same.

"Wow! It's really pretty! It looks just like home!" said Sky in awe.

"Yes dear, and most importantly, you'll be perfectly safe here," said Veldria, hugging her son tightly as if she could never let him go.

"And there's a small room off to the right modeled after your bedroom. If it takes a long time for Momma and Daddy to return, you can sleep there," said Galladran quietly.

"Okay, but I know you'll be back soon, right?" asked Sky, trying to smile brightly.

"We'll try our best," replied Galladran with a half smile, "Come dear, we must go."  
"I-I know, but my baby…I can't leave him," whispered Veldria.

"You promised to keep him safe no matter what, you'll do no good here," sighed Galladran, though not unkindly.

"Yea, momma. Once all the bad guys are gone, you and Dadda can come back and we can finish my birthday party!" giggled Sky.

Veldria smiled through her tears, and held Sky even closer to her.

"You're right, angel, and we'll be back before you know it," said Veldria, hugging him a final time before turning and running out of the warded room, afraid lest her emotions should get out of control.

"Remember, son, if we don't return, wait for a member of the Selesnyan Conclave to come for you. If someone else should manage to break the wards, do not go with them if there is any way you can possibly avoid it," said Galladran.

"Yes, Dadda," said Sky dutifully, "I'll miss you."

Galladran smiled and enveloped his son in a fatherly embrace.

"I'll miss you too, my son, my only child," whispered Galladran.

After another moment, Galladran let go of Sky and left the room. Sky heard his father speak another word, the door closed, and the room was plunged in utter silence.

Captain Agrus Kos did in fact wake up with a splitting headache the next day. It was so bad, he didn't get out of bed until about noon, and even then the headache had only been reduced to a "dull roar". He managed to pull himself into his cramped and disgustingly small cubicle, avoiding the stares of others who had heard about his 'escapades' last night. He didn't really know what he had done that had been so amusing to the others while he had been drunk, and he didn't really think he wanted to. He nearly screamed when he saw the pile of paperwork that had accumulated during his short absence. In fact, he would have screamed if the people there wouldn't have heard him, and wouldn't have called him crazier than he already was. Okay, maybe he didn't really care about people believing him to be crazy, but if he had screamed, it most likely would have infuriated his already raging headache, something he really didn't need at the moment.

Steeling himself, he got to work, but after only about an hour, he had fallen fast asleep at his desk. Suddenly, a loud roar erupted in his already aching cranium.

"What? Keep away from my drink, you have your own!" roared Kos, looking up with such a furious look in his eyes that the fat, young constable standing nervously in front of his desk jumped backwards a few meters in fright.

"I-I'm sorry sir," squealed the constable, "I-I just have another report…"  
"Another bloody report!" Kos cried, but in another moment he was the perfect picture of icy calm.

"I-I'm sorry, sir," squealed the constable, "It's just my job."  
"I know, I know, I'm sorry for growling at you," sighed Kos, taking the report from the hand of the trembling constable, "You're dismissed."

The constable shakily saluted Kos and hurried out of the room as if Borborygmos himself were hot on his tail. Kos skimmed the report with weary eyes, but the fatigue disappeared after reading a few sentences. A half an hour later, he was reading the same report, perusing it very carefully…

Sky didn't know how long he had been dozing at the "kitchen table", but when he awoke, everything seemed to be the same as before. His parents still hadn't returned, and none of the members of the Selesnya Conclave had appeared, though he was afraid to think of what that actually meant. Sighing, he stretched his cramped legs and walked over to the window. Looking out, all he could see were swirling green patterns that dazzled his eyes when he held them in his vision for a long amount of time. He turned away from the dizzying designs, and focused his attention on a small pot filled with soil sitting just underneath the windowsill. He distinctly remembered in his real house that there had been a soil-filled pot just like this one, and when he had asked about it, his mother said she had planted a very special kind of flower inside. He gently probed the soil with his fingers, and his eyes widened as his entire hand began to glow with a steady, golden light.

"Not again…" he murmured, yanking his hand away.

It was too late, however, to reverse whatever spell he had cast, intentionally or unintentionally, for the entire pot was now filled with the same radiance that had formed around his hand. Slowly, a green sprout shot out of the soil; followed by a tender, white bud. As Sky watched in fascination, the bud opened up to reveal a blush of pink radiating from the center of the flower. No matter how many times flowers and growing things responded to his touch, the young elf still could not believe that he somehow possessed this innate power to accelerate growth.

"Impressive," said a rich, earthy voice behind Sky, causing him to whirl around in fright, "The blessing of Mat'selesnya must indeed be upon you."

The elf standing behind Sky and in front of a now unsealed and opened door seemed to be in his mid thirties, but elven features could often be misleading, and the man could very well have been over two hundred years old. He had long blond hair hanging over his shoulders, and keen blue eyes that seemed to take everything in at once. He was clothed in blue breeches and a royal blue tunic embroidered with delicate gold filigree. Silver gauntlets covered his arms, and a flowing green cloak was thrown across his shoulders. On his back hung a quiver full of arrows and a bow, ornately carved and wrought with wondrous designs.

When Sky finally found his voice, he said, "Y-you're Tolsimir Wolfblood!"

"You know me, child?" asked Tolsimir in his deep, powerful voice.

"Who wouldn't know you, sir? You're a legend! I-I'm honored to meet a blessed orator of the wise and holy Mat'selesnya," replied Sky breathlessly.

"Please, child, we are all one, none higher than the other. Mat'selesnya guards and protects all her children equally. I'm sorry to have frightened you, and I apologize that I must be abrupt, but it is imperative that I take you away from here this instant. The danger has only been mitigated, and the longer we stay here, the greater it will grow. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to gather only the things you deem to be absolutely necessary, for we have a long journey ahead of us," said Tolsimir.

"W-won't Mamma and Dadda be coming with us?" asked Sky, his lower lip trembling.

Tolsimir looked at Sky, pity in his usually cool blue eyes. Going over to the child, he bent down on one knee to gaze into Sky's emerald eyes.

"Sky, I…tried to save your parents, but I was too late…" said Tolsimir, "I won't mince words, it'll only cause you more pain. You're parents…they've gone to join Mat'selesnya in the Great Beyond. You will not see them anymore in this life. I was able to speak to their ghosts before they departed, and they gave me charge of you, child. They want you safe in the Conclave; they would not wish you to remain here in danger to mourn."

The look in Sky's eyes was so full of anguish and despair it melted Tolsimir's heart. The young elf's face had gone pale and ashen and his entire body trembled, as if he would collapse any moment.

"I-it can't be true…Momma…Dadda…they said they'd be back," whispered Sky, tears flowing in a torrent, "They have to still be in the house, they have to be! They promised, they promised!"  
"Sky, don't…" began Tolsimir, but Sky had already pushed past the elven orator, stumbling out of the warded room and heading directly for the house.

"Sky, you can't go in there! It will only bring you pain! Sky, please listen to me!" cried Tolsimir, sprinting after the child, but Sky had gone inside.

Tolsimir sighed heavily and hurried through the door to find Sky standing wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and shaking at the sight that lay before him. The entire room was in shambles, filled with carnage and blood. Sky's parents lay in a pool of a dark red liquid tinged with black in the middle of the room, a ring of dead goblins, trolls, ogres, and other foul creatures scattered around them. Sky retched loudly, losing what remained of his breakfast, just before Tolsimir scooped him up, wrapping the child in his cloak to prevent the youthful elf from seeing anything else. He quickly hurried out the front door, gingerly stepping around the broken bodies strewn throughout the small sitting room and foyer. Once outside, Tolsimir took a deep breath of fresh air, and whistled loudly. He pressed the trembling bundle in his arms closer to his chest as the boy wrapped inside began moaning piteously.

"Shhh, it's alright, no one shall harm you, child. You are safe with me," whispered Tolsimir, his deep voice filled with a gentleness he rarely exhibited.

"B-but…Momma…Dadda…they're…they were…it was…horrible!" cried Sky brokenly, unable to form a coherent sentence, his slender body wracked with sobs.

"I know, I know. The light shall never accept such vile and disgusting actions, and the murderers of your parents will know no peace in the afterlife. But do not think of it, dear child, it will only serve to augment your pain. Think of how happy they must be to live forever in the blessed presence of Mat'selesnya herself," said Tolsimir softly.

"B-but I saw them…before…they were fine…now…now…ahh…no…no…no," sobbed Sky, refusing to be comforted.

Tolsimir sighed, knowing it would be better to allow the child his tears now instead of later in the city, where it might be dangerous for Sky to be emotionally unstable. At that moment, a large, snow-white wolf bounded into view.

"Any sight of the enemy, Voja?" asked Tolsimir, looking at the wolf sharply.

Voja the wolf seemed to shake its head fractionally, though any chance observer would probably have passed in off as coincidence.

"The first good news I've heard all day," muttered Tolsimir under his breath.

Aloud he said, "We will ride now; you must be as fast as the wind, Voja. I have sworn to see this child safely to Vitu Ghazi, and I will allow no hindrance."

"B-but, Mister Wolfblood…" began Sky, trying to speak through his tears.

"You can call me Tolsimir," interrupted the great orator and warrior, smiling kindly.

After a hesitation, Sky spoke again, though he was still speaking in between sobs, "Mister Tolsimir…I-I…the cloak…Momma made it for me…I-I…please…can't we…I…get it?"

Tolsimir sighed, and set Sky gently on Voja.

"Free your tears on Voja, child, he will not mind a little dampness," said Tolsimir quietly, ignoring a strange glare the wolf gave him, "I will return with your cloak, if it can be salvaged."

"Oh…oh..t-thank you…you're…so…kind…I-I…love…you," murmured Sky, trying to smile through his tears, but only half succeeding.

Tolsimir smiled fractionally back at the boy and hurried into the house. He made his way through the bodies, the blood, and the wreckage before finally reaching Sky's room, which had surprisingly been relatively undamaged. Seeing a green cloak hanging on the wall, embroidered with lovely and intricate silver designs, Tolsimir's heart began to ache. He knew how much work Veldria had placed into such a beautiful garment, and how much love she had woven into it as well. He remembered Veldria, young and laughing as a child, and how they had been great friends as they grew in wisdom and took separate paths. She had gone on to marry Galladran and Tolsimir had become one of the most renowned of Mat'selesnya's preachers. He shook his head quickly, dispelling any other distracting thoughts, and gently took the cloak from the hook.

When he finally returned to Sky and Voja, the elven child was fast asleep on the wolf's back, his hands firmly rooted in Voja's fur. Voja blinked and then looked back at the sleeping child. To Tolsimir, it seemed that the look in Voja's eyes was full of pity, but that was absurd, wasn't it? Bonded with him or not, Voja was certainly not human. Carefully, Tolsimir extracted Sky's hands from Voja's fur, and unwrapped his own green cloak from Sky's thin body. He then wrapped Sky in the cloak lovingly woven by Veldria, and as the cloak touched his body, Sky seemed much more relaxed and comfortable. He opened his eyes wearily, his gaze unfocused, and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

"Night…Dadda," Sky whispered before closing his eyes once again, causing Tolsimir's heart to cleanly rupture in two.

Tears sprang to Tolsimir's eyes as he carefully sat behind Sky, supporting the sleeping child.

"Ride like the wind, Voja…" whispered Tolsimir in a soft voice so as not to wake the distraught Sky.

Before the words were even out of Tolsimir's mouth, the gleaming white wolf was already streaking through the night.


	3. Danger Via the Road

Chapter 3

Street folk call them "spire mice," but behind the mockery is an unspoken envy of the ledgewalkers' skill at avoiding harm.

A wiry young elf poised precariously at the top of the spires on one of the largest buildings of Ravnica. Her raven hair looked to have almost a purple hue as it shimmered in the morning sunlight, pulled back in a tight braid. Her clothes were tight fitting, allowing her the freedom of movement, a vital requirement for all ledgewalkers. She blinked with her deceptively doe-like brown eyes as she glanced with apparent unconcern at the thousands of feet that lay between her and the ground. Her lips curved in a tight smile as she spread her arms out until they were parallel with her shoulders. With a cry of exhilaration, she threw herself from the spire, beginning to free-fall through the air, twisting and turning, doing back-flips and forward flips. As she got relatively closer to the ground, she grabbed a metal pole that stuck out from the roof of one of the buildings, flipped over it, and continued her descent. She continued this pattern, fall…catch, flip….fall…catch, flip….fall, until she was only a couple hundred of feet above the ground. As she was doing a triumphant three sixty degree turn in the air to finish her daring performance, a heavy object collided with her stomach, forcing her out of her picture perfect pose. Anyone else rushing hundreds of feet to land on the rocky pavement below, winded and perhaps wounded, would probably have panicked, but not this elf. At the last possible second, she made a grab for a clothesline, caught it and hung there for a split second before the rope snapped and she landed nimbly on the ground below.

"Who in the name of Silhana dared to interrupt my morning routine?" she asked in a voice just loud enough for anyone close enough to hear, though her stance was dangerously cool and calculated.

At first, nothing stirred, but in another moment, a dark wind rushed through the narrow, dead-end alley the elven woman had landed in.

"Who's there?" the ledgewalker cried, "I'm not spooked as easily as you think. If you're Gruul looking for easy prey, you'd better think again."

"Valhala, Valhala, Valhala," chortled a man's voice.

The ledgewalker, Valhala, whirled around to see a human male clothed in gray and silver sizing her up with dark, coal-black eyes. In fact, his eyes were the only things that could be seen behind his mask that was shaped and colored like a human skull.

"Do I know you?" asked Valhala uncertainly.

"No, but I know all about you," replied the man with an eerie grin, "How you broke away from the Selesnyans, for instance."

"There's nothing wrong with that, the Selesnyans harbor no ill will against those who have chosen to go their own ways," said Valhala stiffly.

"What about those with deep, dark secrets? What about those who have stolen certain things from the Selesnyan Conclave, things which have been sorely missed," laughed the human.

"Who are you?" cried Valhala in a strangled voice, "You know nothing of me, all you speak are lies!"

"Do I? Do I really?" asked the man, his dark eyes boring deeply into Valhala's skull, "But no matter, I do have a proposition for you, if you're willing to listen."

"You don't really give me much choice…" growled Valhala.

"You have a choice, of course, but you have chosen the best course of action. Now, an elven boy will be traveling into the city of Rav through the gate leading to the Boros section, I believe, sometime this very afternoon. He has blonde hair and startling green eyes, yet the most striking…feature of the child is that growing things seem to become livelier and more healthy if he so much as places a single finger on them. Sometimes, plants even seem to spring up of their own accord around him. Oh, and if it matters to you at all, his name is Sky," said the man in his silky-smooth voice.

"You want me to kill a child?" asked Valhala in disbelief.

"Of course not," chided the man, as if the very thought had never even occurred to him, "All I ask is that you accost him before he enters the city, if possible, and bring him to the address I provide."

"Are you sure it's a lone child?" asked Valhala, "He has no protection whatsoever?"

"Well, there is one, a man who goes by the name of Tolsimir Wolfblood…" began the man, but as soon as he spoke the name "Tolsimir," the rest of the words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Suddenly, Valhala strode over to the man, and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.

"Are you sure Tolsimir Wolfblood is coming this city?" she growled, "If you are lying to me…"

"I swear it, madam," the man choked out, his eyes bulging, "But I didn't think he would pose much of a problem to one as skilled as yourself."

After glaring at him for another moment, she finally spoke, "I'll do it. Give me the address! But I'd better get good money out of this."  
The man hurriedly gave her a slip of paper and nodded, "I assure you, my masters pay quite vast amounts for a job well done."

Before Valhala could reply, the man had somehow disappeared without a trace. Forcing thoughts of the strange man out of her mind, she turned her thoughts to Tolsimir. Another tight, yet this time wicked, smile played on her lips. Tolsimir would pay with blood for what he did to her. Though she did not like getting involved in kidnapping children, the glory of sweet revenge would take the bitter sting out of her conscience, which continued to nag at her. Besides, it wasn't like she had much of a choice, not when all the information the man had on her could be for sale to the highest bidder at any given moment should she fail her job. Hardening her resolve and checking her weapons, she dispelled all uncertainties from her mind and as she headed towards destination, she mentally prepared her ambush. Tolsimir would certainly have to be taken out first, no doubt about it. Even if he was a vile, low down, betrayer, she knew he had a strong sense of duty and most likely would not allow her closer than a mile from the child, especially if he discovered her purposes. His wolf, she believed its name was Voja, would also be a formidable adversary, but a stealthy knife through its gut should end all opposition from that quarter. That left the child, but even with his plants, she dismissed dealing with him the easy part. He most likely wasn't able to defend himself, that was why Tolsimir was with him, wasn't it? After facing Tolsimir and Voja, kidnapping the child would be like taking candy from a baby. She ruthlessly pushed down the misgivings of kidnapping and possibly harming a young child, and forced a mirthless grin on her face. Today would certainly be interesting, and maybe she would finally get her revenge.

Jarad grinned tightly to himself, licking the blood of a fresh kill from his blade as the Devkarian females handled the now zombified lizard-man that had been caught lurking on Devkarian grounds. Even as leader of the Golgari, he refused to give up the glory of hunting, and any unfortunates who wandered into Devkarian territory did not live long, at least not under the faculties of their own spirit.

"Good hunt today, Jevra, Niasha," said Jarad simply to the two women before heading back to his quarters.

The number of Golgari and Selesnyan deaths that had been rising over the past few days, however, served to embitter the sweetness of victory. He was still no closer to discovering the mysterious murderer, but he was beginning to think that just one person hadn't committed all of the killings. Someone could surely be constructing the entire plot, but some of the killings had been within seconds of each other, and in opposite districts of the city as well. Unless this person could instantly teleport from place to place, which was a rare and widely unpracticed method of travel due to its dangers, then it was safe to say that there had to be at least two murderers, if not more. As Jarad unbolted the door that led to his room, much larger now considering he had been proclaimed leader of the Golgari, a slight tingling in his spine told him something was not quite right. He looked around for signs of danger, but nothing stirred in the dank underground. He shrugged it off, the undercity was always full of dangers, and opened his door. As he shut the door behind him, however, he felt rather than saw a disturbing presence.

"Reveal yourself!" he snarled, knives seeming to appear as if by magic in each of his hands.

A humanoid figure swathed in navy blue garments stepped forward into the dim, green-tinted firelight. No distinguishable features could be seen except for its blazing red eyes.

"Jarad, King of the Golgari, I have an interesting proposition for your ears alone," hissed the enigmatic figure.

"What makes you think I'll want to listen to it?" Jarad bit out.

"What if I told you I could stop the murders taking place if you did a small, miniscule job, hardly even worthy of an elf of your skill," said the cloaked and hooded one in a deceptive tone.

"You can cease your flattery; it won't work on me," said Jarad grimly, "Tell me of this job you speak of, and I will decide whether I want to accept it or not."

"As I said, it is merely a trifle," said the figure, seeming to draw within itself, "A young boy will be entering the city escorted by none other than Tolsimir Wolfblood. Fortunately, someone will be taking care of Tolsimir. All you need to do is kidnap the young child, an elf. He has blonde hair, green eyes, and yet the most unnatural thing about him is his ability to stimulate growth in plants, even those that have been long dormant. It would be best if you grabbed him before he enters the city itself. If you succeed, bring him to the address I give you, and you have my word that the killings will cease."

Jarad eyed the cloaked figure, his face darkening in anger.

"He's the one you want, isn't he?" exploded Jarad, "That's why you've killed the other elves, because they've been failures! I will have no part in your schemes, fiend! You'd best go before I exact the price that fools who enter my domain without permission must pay!"

The cloaked figure seemed to chuckle underneath its hood, though it was hard to tell, "Don't be foolish, I certainly did not order the murders or perform them myself. That's too messy a business for me, but I can order them stopped if you but perform the simple task I ask of you."

"So you would have me kidnap a child for your whims?" asked Jarad suspiciously.

"What is one elven child compared to ten, twenty, even one hundred other elves. Can you bear being held responsible, knowing you could have stopped the killings by accosting a mere child?" asked the cloaked one maliciously.

Jarad glared at the figure, hard eyed, weighing the decision in his mind.

"I will do as you say," said Jarad at last, hanging his head, as if in defeat.

"Good," hissed the figure, "Here is the address, and know you're cooperation will not go unrewarded."

By the time Jarad took the slip of paper the figure had disappeared, leaving no trace it had been there, not an inkling of its existence.

"Vile creature, you'll get more than you bargained for…" whispered Jarad as the fire in the room slowly burned out.

Kos tried to keep from glaring at his section commander, Vigros Eldun. He was already in a bad mood, and Vigros' news wasn't doing anything to improve it.

"So you're telling me," began Kos through clenched teeth, "That I'm supposed to be providing an escort through the city for some fanatical Selesnyan preacher and a runty elf? I have files and paperwork to go through, I have no time for that now. Besides, I have to get to the bottom of this whole elf-murdering business that's been plaguing us for the past month."  
"I know, I know, Kos," sighed Eldun, a graying man in his late forties, "But this is very important to the Selesnyan Conclave. You know they are going through hard times, what with all these elves being murdered…"

"Green-eyed, blonde haired elves!" interrupted Kos, "What's that have to do with Tolsimir? Does he have those traits too?"

"As a matter of fact, no. Tolsimir has blue eyes, at least that's what his official records state. But you know the Selesnyans, they're all roiling in confusion because of the deaths. They give everyone the whole speech about how the Dimir, the Golgari, the Gruul, the Rakdos, almost any clan you could think of, are plotting their ruin and destroying their people. Personally, I think they're more worried about replacing the lost ones than about their members' actual deaths. And it's funny how they seem to care nothing for the Golgari dead, as if it were their just due or something. But it's not our place to quibble. When any loyal, law-abiding citizen asks for protection or an escort…" replied Eldun, but Kos interrupted him once again.

"I know, I know," sighed Kos, "When any loyal, law-abiding citizen asks for protection or an escort, the Wojek must supply either in adherence to the supreme magic that binds the guildpact. You don't have to tell me, I must have read the Wojek's manual about a thousand times."

"Good, then you have no problem with your assignment, right?" asked Eldun with a toothy grin.

Kos muttered something under his breath, but he knew Eldun was right. Why did anyone that had authority over him always seem to be able to get what they wanted from him, whether he liked it or not?

"But isn't there anyone else that can do it? You're not sending me by myself, are you?" cried Kos in exasperation, attempting to get out of it a final time.

"Of course I'm not sending you alone," chided Eldun, "In fact, the Selesnya Conclave has appointed their own ambassador to accompany with you, and I think you'll find her anything but incapable."  
"Great, another sanctimonious fool blabbing about how all should be part of the Conclave and how they are all One!" murmured Kos, rolling his eyes.

"Is that how you really think about us?" asked a feminine voice.

The elf eyeing Kos with a playful light in her eyes was slender, though that wasn't saying much for most elves were. Her golden hair glinted in the sunlight, making quite a pretty picture. Kos looked at her uncertainly. This elf was Fonn, the daughter of Kos' former partner and mentor, the man Kos had accidentally killed during an investigation of Rakdos cruelty. This was the girl whose mother had pointed him out as a murderer since she was a little girl. He doubted she could ever truly forgive him for what he had done, but after he had explained the official story, she hadn't totally spurned him. But she definitely did hold a cool note voice in her voice when she spoke to him, even now while she was joking.

"Uh, hi Fonn," said Kos with a half grin, "You know I didn't mean it. My, uh…tongue wanders sometimes."

"Oh, I understand, Kos. I understand perfectly," said Fonn in an icy voice that clearly stated she didn't believe a word of it.

"I take it you two know each other already," Eldun remarked dryly.

"As a matter of fact we do," said Fonn, her voice still tinged with frost.

"She was the one with the gem in that whole Szadek business," said Kos quietly.

Both Eldun and Fonn shuddered upon hearing the name Szadek. No one wanted to be reminded of the "invisible guild", the guild that not even the bravest dared to admit was a reality.

"Ah, yes, well, I'm sure you two will work quite well together. If you have no other questions, then I must return to my duties," said Eldun, saluting them both, receiving a salute from Kos and a slight nodding of the head from Fonn.

As the section commander left the room, Kos and Fonn looked at each other uncomfortably. Well, Kos actually looked more uncomfortable than Fonn did. The only sign of discomfort Fonn showed was tapping her left foot on the ground nervously.

Finally Kos broke the silence, "Well, together again, huh?"  
"Yes, I do as the Conclave wills," sighed Fonn, though she clearly looked like she wished she were miles away from the Conclave and its will.

"Too bad Jarad isn't here, we made a pretty awesome threesome, huh?" laughed Kos.

To Kos' surprise, Fonn colored just a bit before hastily replying, "Come, we must get this job done. I failed in my duty to protect Saint Bayul; I will not fail this one!"  
Fonn turned on her heels and strode from the room, leaving an astounded Kos looking after her.

"Women…" muttered Kos, "How was I to know she and Jarad have a thing for each other?"

Still grumbling, he trudged after her, thinking how badly the last three days had gone, and what an unlucky person he was.

Sky woke to the afternoon sunlight, glaring directly into his face. As he tried to get up, he nearly fell off the wolf he was riding on in surprise.

"Glad to see you awake!" said a voice behind him, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yea, I'm okay, Da…" began Sky, but his voice faltered when he remembered his father was no longer among the living.

He was riding Voja, with the legendary preacher, Tolsimir, sitting behind him. The two were going to the Selesnya Conclave in the city for protection, yea, that was right. He tried not to cry as thoughts of his parents drifted into his mind, but a few stray tears fell to streak Voja's snow-white fur.

Apparently, Tolsimir saw the tears and the melancholy look that went with it, because he spoke in a cheerful voice, "Hey Sky, why don't you look up? You can see the city from here; it's actually quite beautiful!"

Hesitantly, trying not to sniffle, Sky lifted his head to gaze in front of them. He sharply sucked in his breath at the site. Tolsimir had been right, for the sight was truly marvelous! The spires of Ravnica glittered in the afternoon sunshine, and Sky could pick out many of the wonders that crowned the great city. There was Sunhome, the church-barracks-fortress, the seat of the Wojek, the official keepers of the law in the city. And in another spot, Nivix, the Aerie of the Firemind, the home of the great dragon wizard Niv-Mizzet, sparkled as if it were a miniature sun. Above everything, however, lay the golden spires of Prahv, the magically protected city where the Azorius clan lay down the laws that bound Ravnica and held it together. It was also the place where rules and regulations could be discussed for days with never a compromise in sight, though Sky knew nothing of that. He only knew and saw how beautiful it was, and it made him happy, though he had to fight to keep back the thought that his parents would have loved it too.

"I'm sure your parents would have been very proud of you," whispered Tolsimir into the young child's ear, as if he had read his mind, "They would have wanted you to see this."  
"It's beautiful, Mister Tolsimir, truly beautiful! You're the kindest, most wonderful person ever for bringing me here!" laughed Sky, his eyes shining with wonder and amazement.

"I thank you child," said Tolsimir with a hearty laugh, "Your sweet innocence could melt even the hardest heart."

Sky smiled brightly up at him, giggling for the first time since the death of his parents. Laughing, though, reminded him of the times when he had laughed and played with his mother and father, and his laughter abruptly ceased.

"Is something wrong, child?" asked Tolsimir anxiously.

"N-no…" faltered Sky, turning to stare at the ground rushing underneath Voja's feet.

"I know you miss your parents Sky, but they would not want you to mourn for them. They are in a happier place," whispered Tolsimir, holding Sky tightly.

Sky didn't say anything, however, and his eyes trembled, as if he were struggling to hold back tears.

"Voja!" Tolsimir suddenly said in a gruff, clipped voice, "We will take a small break now. I'm afraid the young master here needs to work out the cramp in his legs. He is not used to riding."  
Sky looked up, and was about to protest it was quite all right, but Voja had already stopped, and Tolsimir was lifting him off of the wolf and onto the ground. As soon as the preacher let go of Sky, the young boy nearly fell over. Before he hit the ground, however, Tolsimir caught him.

"Easy there, young one. You've had a night and half a day of hard riding without rest when I don't believe you have ever ridden even a horse before. Sit down and stretch your legs for a bit, and then see if you can walk," said Tolsimir, a warning note in his voice.

"Okay, Mister Tolsimir!" said Sky, smiling, though it wasn't as bright as before.

Tolsimir carefully lowered the boy to the ground, and Sky immediately stretched out his legs, sighing in relief. The elven preacher then turned to his mount.

"Watch over the child, Voja, I will be back in a few moments," said Tolsimir.

It may have been a trick of the sunlight, but the wintry white wolf seemed to nod its head.

"Where are you going, Mister Tolsimir?" asked Sky, puzzlement in his features.

"You and I have not had anything to eat all day, and I'm sure you must be hungry. I'm going to scrounge a meal for us from the wilds. I'm afraid game is scarce around these parts, however, so we'll have to make do with whatever fruits, nuts, and berries I'm able to find," replied Tolsimir.

"I am a little hungry," admitted Sky.

"Good, then I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Do not stray from this spot, and if there is any danger, stay behind Voja and call my name," said Tolsimir, giving the child a warm smile before disappearing into the woods that lay just to the east of the road.

As Tolsimir disappeared, Sky settled himself on the ground, and looked around. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see. Apart from the road running all way to the city, there was only the forest to the east that Tolsimir had disappeared into, and a dark, deep ravine directly west of the road that seemed to run all the way to the city as well. Suddenly, the white aura that had enveloped Sky's hand the day before now glimmered around Sky's entire body, as well as around a great amount of the grasses, flowers, and plants around him.

"Uh-oh…" murmured Sky.

Voja glanced at the boy, and concern seemed to be in the wolf's features. As he trotted over to the child, a cluster of daisies sprouted under the wolf's feet, followed by a rather prickly rosebush. Voja yelped in pain as a thorn stuck itself in his foot.

"Voja!" cried Sky, guilt in his eyes, "I'm so sorry…I can't control it. Just stand still; it should be over soon!"  
Voja gave Sky a cool look, and it seemed the wolf raised its eyebrows as if to say "What? Did you think I would panic over a small thorn?"

When the light finally disappeared from around Sky and the wolf, the bounties of nature all around them were in their full glory. The grass was lush and green, the flowers bright and fresh, as if they had just opened. The scent of many different herbs spiced the air, causing Voja to twitch his nose and sneeze.

"I-I think it's over…" stammered Sky, getting to his feet and brushing through the foliage that seemed to cling to him until he reached the wolf.

"Sorry about that," whispered Sky into Voja's ear, "I-I didn't mean to hurt you. Maybe it would've been best if Tolsimir had left me in the warded room. Then I wouldn't cause all this trouble."

Voja nipped playfully at Sky's ear as if to chastise him for saying such disparaging things of himself, and licked the elven child's face.

"Awww, thanks Voja!" giggled Sky, throwing his arms around the wolf's neck, "You're the best!"

Voja seemed a little taken aback at first, if that was possible for a wolf, but in another moment, he had awkwardly placed a paw on Sky's back. Suddenly, a dagger flashed out of nowhere, heading straight for the pair. Somehow, Voja had anticipated the dagger, and he pushed Sky out of harm's way with his head, but was too late to save himself.

"Voja!" screamed Sky as the dagger embedded itself into Voja's ribs, causing the wolf to collapse on the ground.

"Oh please, that was just too easy," said a somewhat bored, feminine voice.

Before he could react, a thin, sinewy arm snaked around Sky's shoulders, grasping him tightly.

"Tolsimir!" he yelled, "Tolsimir, help! Voja's hurt, Oh please…"

Sky's cries were cut off as a hand covered his mouth.

"None of that now," hissed the voice right beside his ear, "I don't want to hurt you if I don't have to. You must be a good little boy and do as you're told, no struggling. Now, you are coming with me. If you protest, I'm afraid I'll have to finish off your little friend here!"

Voja growled at the source of the voice, but could not get up. Sky flailed in his mysterious captor's grasp, glimpsing a pair of doe-like brown eyes and oddly purple-hued hair before she slammed him hard into the ground, causing him to lose his breath.

"I warned you not to move," she hissed, grabbing his arms and twisting them painfully behind his back.

Standing him up, one of her hands holding his in place in a vise-like grip, she flashed a dagger in her other hand.

"Really, child, I had thought you would be more cooperative," she sighed, pointing the dagger lazily at Voja, "But if you insist on being stubborn…"

She let the threat hang in the air as she pulled her arm back to throw.

"No! Please, miss, please!" Sky sobbed wildly, "I'll do as you say, just don't hurt him!"  
"Better," said the woman with a satisfied grunt, "Now march!"  
As Sky took a step, his foot radiated a strange light, and a small, miniscule plant appeared in the ground underneath him. The woman captor eyed it suspiciously for a moment, and then shrugged.

"I was warned about your silly little powers with plants," she said with an evil grin, "But it seems you can do nothing more than create weeds."  
She raised her foot to step on it, when it suddenly exploded with sudden energy. It shot up, knocking into her face with enough force to send her staggering backwards, causing her to loose her hold on Sky. In panic, Sky fought free of her, skidding on the ground beside the plant as more vines sprung up to cling to the woman.

"You nasty little imp!" she roared as she uselessly fought the ivy beginning to swallow her up.

"I-I'm sorry," stammered Sky, "I'll tell them to let you go as soon as I help my friend."

Leaving the furious woman wrangling with the ivy vines, Sky hurried over to Voja's fallen form. Somehow, the dagger had fallen from his body, but the wolf's breaths were coming in gasps, blood pouring from his wound.

"Voja! Oh no, Voja!" cried Sky, tears flowing as he cradled the wolf's head in his lap.

Voja looked up at him, a hint of recognition in his glassy eyes, and feebly tried to lift his head to lick him. Sky's heart almost broke in two when he saw Voja didn't even have enough strength to perform that simple action, laying his head back on Sky's lap with a whimper instead.

"No Voja, don't die, please!" murmured Sky tearfully, "I won't let you, I won't lose you like I lost my parents!"

Sky pressed his hands over the wound, trying to stop the flow of blood. Words came to his mind unbidden, almost as if someone else were speaking them.

"Eli, enni, av'rasor, allani!" said Sky, repeating the words in quite a different voice than only moments ago.

Slowly, the blood slowed and finally stopped, and the wound seemed to close of its own accord. Voja lifted his head, and stiffly got to his feet, an oddly grateful look in his piercing yellow eyes.

"Y-you're okay," whispered Sky in amazement, "You're really okay!"

To Sky's surprise, Voja merely growled, but when Sky followed Voja's stare, he saw the wolf was growling at the woman, not himself. The woman, the _elven_ woman as Sky now noticed, had finally fought free of the vines. Her mouth twisted in anger as she flashed two daggers ominously in her hands.

"I gave you more than fair warning, kid!" she spat out, "I'll skewer that wolf for your insolence, and you will be mine. And you'll be lucky if I leave you in one piece once I have you in my clutches. I've been known to cut off fingers and toes of bounties that try to escape me!"

"W-what's a bounty?" whispered Sky in a trembling voice as Voja moved protectively in front of him, "I-I don't understand. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, please don't hurt Voja again…"

"Don't play with me, brat!" roared the woman, raising her dagger to throw.

Sky threw his arms around Voja, squeezing so tightly the wolf's eyes seemed to bulge. Before the daggers could leave her hands, however, a spinning tree branch came out of nowhere to smash into her gut, knocking the weapons from her grasp. She screamed and turned in rage to behold Tolsimir running towards them. When she saw who it was, however, her eyes took on a strangely feral light.

"Tolsimir," she cried in a loud, angry yet acerbic voice, "So nice of you to join the party. You always did like to make an entrance."

Tolsimir's eyes hardened noticeably as he dashed in front of Sky and Voja.

"And you always did like to pretend you were tougher than you actually were, Valhala," muttered Tolsimir under his breath.

Ignoring Valhala for a moment, Tolsimir turned to Sky and Voja.

"You alright?" he asked anxiously.

Sky nodded with a wan smile, "Yea, we're okay, but she's a mean lady. She almost killed Voja and was trying to take me away."  
Tolsimir looked back at Valhala, his face grim.

"So you've been reduced to mere bounty hunting?" asked Tolsimir with a haggard shake of his head, "I really expected better from you, Valhala."

"It's what you'd be doing if you were in my position," retorted Valhala acidly.

Tolsimir shook his head, half-angrily, half reproachfully as he replied, "Give it up, Valhala. You can't face both Voja and I at once. If you do not desist in your heretical ways, I'm afraid there will be no choice but for me to place you under arrest."

"You can't do that!" Valhala cried, eyes flashing, "Just because I left the Conclave of my own free will, doesn't mean you can just arrest me."

"You've attacked a member of the Selesnyan Conclave, a child no less, and for that you will be charged with attempted kidnapping and assault. I'd like to see how long you last in the court rooms of the Azorius Chancery, before you die of boredom," said Tolsimir with a tight smile.

"Oh no, Tolsimir, it is you who will die!" said Valhala, her voice still acidic.

Without warning, a knife flew from somewhere on her person straight towards the elven preacher. Sky gasped in horror, trying to run forward, but Voja held the boy back with his teeth. Tolsimir merely flourished his cloak and muttered an elvish sounding word. The knife struck the cloak with a clang that sounded suspiciously like metal striking metal, and fell harmlessly to the ground.

Valhala narrowed her eyes as she spoke, "Seems you've learned a few tricks since I last saw you."

She flipped into the air, landing lightly behind Tolsimir, and gave him a reeling blow in the back.

"Seems like you have too," said Tolsimir breathily, staggering to face her.

With a bestial cry, she launched herself at him, trying to batter him with a torrent of blows. Tolsimir blocked each one swiftly and methodically, sweat never breaking on his face.

"Valhala, we don't have to do this," said Tolsimir calmly in between fending off her blows, "Come back to the light and rejoin the Selesnyans. There will always be a place for you."

"Thanks, but no thanks!" she said, allowing herself a tight grin when she saw her plan was working.

Just a few more steps, and he would either plummet to his death, or be forced to grovel before her, knowing he had lost. She would allow him some groveling, but then she would kill him. Another step, and another, one more, and now Tolsimir's left foot hung precariously over the edge.

"Mister Tolsimir, watch out!" cried Sky.

Valhala glanced angrily at the kid, muttering something under her breath. That was the only opening Tolsimir needed. One swift uppercut was all it took to send Valhala plummeting to the ground. She was good, Tolsimir had to give her that. Even as he flipped in the air overtop of her, she was on her feet. Another second and she hurled a dagger before he could get a spell off. Luckily, the dagger grazed his right thigh, only drawing a fractional amount of blood, but he shuddered to think what would have happened if her aim would have been better. He landed with less than his usual grace, but spun around to face her. Before either combatant could make a move, however, a bolt of pale, violet lightning smashed into Tolsimir's chest, with enough force to cause him to crash into Valhala. They both fell, sprawling on the ground, as a humanoid figure with a deathly black mask stepped into view. His eyes, glowing like embers, seemed to burn holes in everything they passed over. Sky shrunk behind Voja, his entire body trembling with fright.

"Such a pity you couldn't carry out one, simple job, Valhala," sighed the man, shaking his head, causing his long, jet-black hair to fall in tangles over his shoulders, "I'm afraid we have no more use for you."

"Wha-," cried Valhala, but she was cut off by Tolsimir's roar.

"Voja, get Sky out of here, now!" he cried.

Voja took one look at Tolsimir, seemed to nod reluctantly, and nudged Sky onto his back, trotting off in the direction of the city.

"It is futile for him to try to escape," laughed the man in a deadly voice, "We have our eye on him."

"The Selesnya Conclave will pay you in full if you dare harm a hair on his head!" Tolsimir spat out, still trying to untangle from Valhala.

"Why are you doing this? I had things under control!" cried Valhala fiercely.

"Oh yes, you were about to be hurled off a cliff by the one you were supposed to defeat. We would love to regard that as having control of the situation, but unfortunately for you, we don't. Now, die!" laughed the man.

Before Tolsimir and Valhala could react, violet lightning shot from the man's eyes, his chest, even his mouth. As the lightning came from his body, he screamed in a voice that seemed to be half-filled with ecstasy and half-filled with pain. The lightning shot into both elves in front of him, hurling them both screaming into the vast gorge ten thousand feet below. The man nodded to himself with a tight smile, and jumped into the air. If anyone would have been watching him, it would have seemed for just a moment that a warp in time or space had appeared around his body.

That was all too easy…All that is left is the boy, and my work is finished… 

By the time he had finished the thought, he appeared in front of the fleeing Sky and Voja, who stopped short upon seeing the masked man. Voja growled deep in the back his throat, as if daring the enigmatic man to come a step nearer.

"W-where's Tolsimir and the lady? W-what did you do to them?" asked Sky, clutching Voja and trying to sound brave, though his entire body was trembling.

"I am truly sorry, but they had to be disposed of…they were minor nuisances, but you are the true target, the prize. You have yet to realize how vastly powerful you can become, but we will train you," laughed the masked one.

"I-I don't wanna be trained by someone like you," whispered Sky as Voja growled at the man, "I-I'm not going anywhere with you! You killed my friend, my guardian whom my parents entrusted me to! Y-you're a very bad man!"

"You'll soon learn the price of talking to us like that!" hissed the man, aiming a single finger at Sky.

A lightning bolt leapt from his fingertip to hurl itself at Sky's chest, all in the blink of an eye. Yet somehow in the single blink, a word came to Sky's lips.

"_Locklast_," he whispered.

A barrier of golden energy surrounded him and the wolf, causing the lightning to strike it harmlessly, and then both the lightning and the barrier disappeared. The man's mouth twisted into a foul-looking grin.

"So you do have some spark in you?" he laughed, "Good, then let's see how you handle this!"

The masked man raised his hands to the sky, and jagged bolts of violet lightning began to play around his entire body.

"Take this!" he roared, sending all the bolts careening towards the young elven boy astride the wolf.

Voja tried to leap out of the way, but the wolf knew the lightning covered far too much of a range for anything short of a miracle to save them. Once again, in the nick of time, words sprang unbidden to Sky's lips.

"_Locklast, carbunclaclis, demifleuronis_!" cried Sky in the otherworldly voice once again.

The lightning met with an invisible wall of resistance, but as it struck the wall, it seemed to gather even more power. The masked one's eyes lit at the imminent victory at hand, when suddenly the bolts seemed to retract and turn themselves on their own master. The masked one only had time for a single shriek before the lightning slammed into his body, shocking him with the thousands of volts he had hoped to subdue Sky with. Sky covered his eyes, weeping into Voja's fur, unable to stand the sight of death. The masked one, however, was not finished. Half of his body had been burned to a crisp so that white bones could be seen gleaming in many different places. His face was scarred with jagged streaks where the lightning had struck with the most ferocity, yet he still lived.

"I will make you pay!" he screamed, raising his hands in the air.

The winds picked up, rain started to fall, and lightning created jagged streaks across the sky. Young Sky looked up just in time to see the man point a finger at him, his mouth open as if to say something, yet the words never came forth from his lips. A knife handle suddenly protruded from the man's chest, and blood blossomed from the spot. The masked one shrieked hideously, clawing at the wound, but a second dagger joined the first, followed closely by a third. As the masked man struck the ground, now a dead corpse, the fury of the storm he had conjured died down, and the sunlight shone through in glorious resplendence. A man with a skull-mask and black hair suddenly leaped in front of Voja and Sky, a man who looked almost like the one who had conjured lightning and tried to kill Sky. Naturally, Sky looked at him with eyes that were full of fear, though they were growing weary. The man lifted his mask to reveal his face and blue eyes that normally were icy yet now held a kind of quiet warmth.

"Don't worry kid, everything's gonna be alright now," said the man in a rough voice, though it sounded as if it were meant to be soothing.

Sky opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He heard Voja growling at the man who had rescued him, and feebly patted the wolf, trying to get its attention. A great surge of weariness overtook him, and he slumped on Voja's back.

"Hey, down wolf! I'm trying to help! Kid? Kid! Hold on…hold…on," were the last words Sky heard before the great darkness took him.

Ren Darntist sighed wearily as he washed the tables in the small bar, which was his entire livelihood. When he had finished his work, he smiled contentedly.

"There we be," he said to himself, "All done for now, and I can close early. Dear Elza will be so pleased to know that I've decided to take half a day off just to spend some time with her."

Suddenly, the door slammed open, which was odd considering Ren had already locked and barred it for the rest of the afternoon.

"Hey! You can't-," began Ren, but the words died on his lips when he saw the figure silhouetted in the doorway.

It was robed in deep black, but its hood was pulled back to reveal a face that had no flesh on it, a gleaming white skull.

"Ren Darntist?" it hissed.

"I-I'm sorry, but we're closed…closing early today," whispered Ren, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

"You will become one with the Necrosages, Darntist. Our numbers may not dwindle," it hissed.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" said Ren stubbornly, backing up.

He groped behind him, searching for a weapon, anything to try to stop this unholy creature. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to scream before the skull-man was on top of him, grasping the terrified barkeeper's head in it's bony hands.

"It will take but a few seconds," hissed the skeleton, "What is a brief instant of pain to an eternity of power?"  
The innkeeper's wordless scream echoed throughout the small room, and then, just as soon as it had begun, the scream was cut short.


	4. Chase Into the Underground

Chapter 4

Lurkers? They are scientifically impossible! I will not believe until I see one with my own eyes! 

------------------- Last words of Jizzet, Simic Researcher

Valhala lay on a ledge just above the bottom of the gorge she had been cast into by the force of the violent lightning. Sweat uncharacteristically beaded her forehead, her heart was pounding, and her deep breaths came in gasps. Usually she loved the thrill of falling, but it had taken all of her skills as a ledgewalker to keep from being dashed to pieces. Never had death seemed so real as it had during the horrific fall, and she didn't want to think about it. After the ledgewalker finally collected her scattered wits and the breath that had been brutally squashed from her body from the fall, she leaned over the edge to see if she could discover Tolsimir's fate. Part of her hoped he had been smashed to pieces, his fragments scattered over the canyon floor, yet another part secretly yearned for him to be alive so she could still exact her vengeance on him in her own way.

She scanned the rocky bottom for a few moments, searching for signs of life, yet without success. Just as she was about to conclude that Tolsimir had indeed been killed, her keen elven eyes spotted a flash of green light not far off. Yet the flash was so ephemeral; she thought she had only imagined it. As the elven woman focused her eyes on the spot where the greenish glow had flickered, it shimmered at the edge of her vision once again and went out. That was proof of magic or she was the daughter of a Gruul. Now she definitively knew that Tolsimir was still alive, and apparently strong enough to send magical signals in hopes of rescue. Well, he wouldn't escape her, not this time, not after all these years of waiting for a chance to make him pay in full for his transgressions against her.

As she pulled herself upright, she checked her physical condition and was relieved to find that apart from a cut across her left cheekbone, and a few minor scrapes and bruises, she was relatively uninjured. Leaping lightly from the ledge, Valhala easily landed on her feet and began sprinting towards the source of green light, which still pulsed occasionally, and always ephemerally. To her surprise, the harder she tried to reach the source of the light, the further off it seemed. After a few moments of fruitlessly running in circles, Valhala dug her heels into the ground and stopped.

_That fool Tolsimir always was the tricky one…his spell is probably some kind of beacon or signal for other Selesnyans, but when it detects anyone else, it weaves a spell of illusion to keep unwanted visitors away from him. Fortunately for me and unfortunately for him, I still remember certain knowledge I gained during my time in the Conclave._

Closing her eyes, and spreading her hands in front of her, she began chanting in a mystical yet musical tongue. Golden light flared around her, swirling into complex and intricate patterns. In a matter of moments, the golden light disappeared, and the green light she had only been able to glimpse momentarily before now glistened like an enormous beacon. To her surprise, Valhala was only a few feet away from the source. Cautious and wary for any tricks from Tolsimir, she hurried towards the brilliant green glow.

Before she came within inches of the light, a voice spoke wryly, "I should've known it would be you who would find me, and I more than guessed the fall hadn't done you in. But it's all over for me now, isn't it? You will have your revenge and I will die before my duty is done, though I have never failed my duty to the Conclave during my entire time as their emissary. Well, why are you standing there gaping? You have me in your power; go on and kill me. It's what you wanted to do all these years, isn't it?"

Valhala, in fact, was gaping at him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She had envisioned him groveling on his knees before her, begging for his life, begging to be hers and only hers once again. And yet here he was accepting his inevitable situation and speaking of it as calmly as if he had been discussing the weather. She could kill the elven preacher now, easily enough. He lay uncomfortably on a stone slab, his body riddled with gaping wounds, and a nasty purple bruise forming on his forehead. His clothes were torn and sullied, and one of his arms seemed to be twisted into an awkward position. She wouldn't even really have to do anything to end his life. She would only have to leave him here in the canyon. If he didn't die of his wounds, some monstrosity would surely devour him in its gaping jaws. And yet she had harbored and savored the vengeance she would wreak on him, had tasted it, reveled in it, and even lived it in her dreams, that she would not accept the chance that she had now been given. He would grovel before her before he died, but she would humiliate and degrade him until his spirit was well as his body was broken. He would know what true torture was before she, Valhala, the famed ledgewalker, was finished with him. He would know what it was like to feel the shame, despair, and rage she had felt. Ignoring his questioning glance, she knelt beside the preacher, and pressed a hand over one of his more serious wounds.

"Vallana de distrora mendaci," she whispered, blue light shining from her hands.

Immediately, the wound closed up, almost as if it had never been there.

"Valhala? I thank you for this, but it is not necessary…I will die, and even if you heal me, I will still be in no shape to travel through the underground," whispered Tolsimir.

Ignoring him, she continued on, always speaking the same words with the same effect, until all of his major wounds were bound and sealed.

"Valhala…" began Tolsimir.

"Shut up, dog!" she snarled, "I only healed you because you need to suffer like I suffered! But for you to suffer, you can't die. We are going on a journey through the underground; I need to get back to civilization."

"How many of us will return to the upper-city, I wonder…" murmured Tolsimir, almost as if to himself.

"You'd like to know that, wouldn't you?" asked Valhala, sticking her face into his until their noses almost touched, "Mark my words, if you are still alive when we break out above ground, you will still be my little slave. You will obey me like the dog you are, and if you do not, you will be punished or killed. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," sighed Tolsimir, "And I will accept the punishment. Maybe I was wrong in what I did-"

"Don't even speak of it, cretin!" screamed Valhala, backhanding him across the face.

Tolsimir looked at her in anguish, rubbing the skin where she had slapped him, which was already turning an angry red.

"Yes, it hurts, doesn't it? One you thought would help you when you were sick and hurt, a creature who would melt to your charms is now treating you like an animal! How do you like it, Tolsimir, how do you like?" she hissed, a triumphant grin on her face.

Tolsimir shook his head.

_You may think you are gaining something by doing this, Valhala, but you are not. And not even I can save you from punishment when your life on Ravnica ends if you persist in this quest for revenge. Revenge always leads to tragic consequences, but maybe you will be lucky. Maybe you can change before it is not too late…_

"What are you thinking of, dog?" she snarled.

"I was thinking we had better get moving if we don't want to be dinner for one of the Golgari beasts that lurk in this accursed underground," said Tolsimir mildly.

"I will decide when we move and when we halt, and now I say we move! Get up!" she cried, prodding him to his feet with a dagger and securing his hands behind his back with a slender yet strong rope.

"No need for force, I will not try to run. Besides, I need you if I'm to make it out of here alive," sighed Tolsimir, weariness in his face.

"Don't try to act all cute on me; it won't work! The oratory skills of the famed Tolsimir Wolfblood may entrance others, but they shall never ensnare me again!" Valhala spat out, "Get moving, I'm right behind you! And if you try anything, magical or otherwise, I'll slit your throat where you stand!"  
"I wouldn't dare try that," whispered Tolsimir as he began to move forward, a sad smile on his face he hoped she couldn't see in the dim light, "No…I would not test your patience…"

Sky tried to force himself to wake, though to him it seemed a long and arduous process. It was like trying to extract himself from a murky bog or a pool of quicksand; the more he struggled, the more he was sucked back into unconsciousness. At last, however, his efforts paid off and he was able to open his eyes. As soon as he did so, however, he wished he hadn't. A jolt of pain arced through his skull, and the entire room began to spin. He shut his eyes tightly until the pain finally subsided, and the light-headed feeling had passed. When he was at last able to open his eyes without pain or a sense of dizzying nausea, he saw he was in a room, dimly lit by a greenish glow. A dark shape huddled by the fire, the only source of light, was apparently asleep. As Sky pulled himself to his feet, another shape moved from the corner of the room, and put a hand on his shoulder. Sky whirled around, a startled, hunted look in his eyes. The person who had lightly touched him was a thin, wiry elf with long black hair and stern blue eyes. Sky recognized him at once as the elf that had saved him from the masked murderer.

"I-I never got to thank you for saving me," said Sky, his voice soft and weak.

"Save your thanks, kid, you need your strength," said the elf in a seemingly unconcerned voice, "You shouldn't even be standing yet. I don't know what kind of spell you used, but using power of that magnitude is bound to give you serious aftershock."

"A-a spell?" stammered Sky, unresisting as the elf gently pressed him back on the floor, "I don't remember using a spell."

The elder elf looked at him in disbelief as he replied, "If you hadn't used a spell to reflect that lightning, no healing in the world would be able to save you now. You'd be a burned, charred corpse."

"O-oh…" whispered Sky, fright leaping into his eyes.

"Hey, don't worry! You're safe now," said the raven-haired elf, trying to sound comforting.

"Y-you won't hurt me?" asked Sky, his voice trembling, "A-aren't you Golgari?"

"I am the Golgari guildmaster," said the elf, a half-wicked smile on his lips, "I command the legions of this guild, living, dead, and undead!"

Sky drew back a little at that, though he tried to sound brave as he spoke, "Momma said that all the elves in the Golgari guild were dark elves…She said they kill just for the fun of it."  
The dark haired elf actually felt a twinge in his heart as Sky spoke in a plaintive tone, thinking of all the times he had killed and forced the newly undead creatures into service. A second later he berated himself for thinking such foolish and unmanly thoughts.

"It's how we Golgari have to make a living in this bloody city, kid," replied the older elf with a non-committal shrug, "Besides, you'll see much worse if you plan on staying in Ravnica, though I doubt it will be safe for you here."

Before Sky could even think of a reply, the shape in front of the fire rose excitedly. As Sky's eyes widened, it barreled into the child elf, and a cold, wet tongue began licking him fiercely.

"Voja!" cried Sky happily, for of course, that was who the shape by the fire had been, "You're okay!"

Voja gave a Sky a reproachful look as if to say "Of course I'm alright. It'll take more than some lightning crazed freak to do me in."  
"I had trouble convincing him the best thing was for you to come with me," said the dark-haired elf wryly, "He nearly snapped my head off!"  
Voja glared at the older elf, growling suspiciously.

"See? He still doesn't like me!" said the elf with a sigh.

"Voja, this elf saved my life!" said Sky sternly, "You should be nice to Mister…Oh, I'm so sorry, I never got your name, and I never gave you mine! I'm Sky!"

"It's Jarad, not Mister Jarad, just Jarad. Mister Jarad makes me feel old, and I'm only in my early two-hundreds," said the elf, grinning in amusement.

"See, Mist…I mean Jarad's a really nice person, Voja!" said Sky, smiling cheerfully.

Voja seemed to consider that for a moment, gave Jarad a suspicious look, and then lay down beside Sky in apparent acquiescence.

"Now, I wonder what I should do with you," said Jarad, rubbing his temples, "I know many of my people would be…less than enthusiastic about having a Selesnyan elf in their midst. It took a chameleon hex to get you in here; even I don't trust some of those who are supposedly under my rule."

"P-please Jarad, take me back to Tolsimir. I know he'll find a way to keep me safe!" cried Sky, clasping his hands together fervently.

Voja whined piteously and shook his head, as if he already knew what had happened to the beloved Selesnyan orator, though he hadn't even seen the powerful elf hurled into the abyss.

"I'm sorry…" sighed Jarad, "I didn't see any sign of Tolsimir Wolfblood, but I did find this."

Jarad held up Tolsimir's green cloak, which was now just a lump of burnt and smoldering material.

"My guess is he was fried by the creature that tried to electrocute you…" said Jarad gently.

Sky's face went ashen, and his eyes welled up with tears. He stumbled and would have fell if Voja hadn't leapt to his feet to support the bewildered and stricken child.

"Oh please…Mister Jarad…tell me it isn't true," sobbed Sky.

"I'm sorry, Sky, but I will not lie to you. From all appearances, Tolsimir is dead," said Jarad bluntly, though he put a comforting hand on the child's shoulder, "But do not fear, I will find someone to take care of you, I promise."

"First my Momma and Dadda gone…and now the holy preacher Tolsimir dead, and it's all because of me! I know it! I just know it! All those bad men and creatures were after me, and if I hadn't been born my parents and Tolsimir would still be alive right now!" cried Sky, throwing his arms around Jarad and holding onto the shocked elf tightly.

"D-don't say that," stammered Jarad, trying to pat the child comfortingly on the back, "You know it isn't true. Even if they were after you, it is not your fault they died. It is the fault of whoever killed them, not yours. Sky! Do you understand me?"

Sky nodded, though his eyes were still filled with tears.

Jarad's face softened more than he himself thought possible as he spoke, "It's important you understand their death is in no way connected to you. If you go around holding onto your guilt, you'll never be happy again."

Jarad blinked; had he just said the word 'happy'? That didn't sound like something a Golgari would say at all. They were certainly not the words a Devkarian elf that had killed countless creatures, humans and otherwise, just for the pleasure of it would say. Yet something seemed entirely wrong with the whole idea of Sky being permanently unhappy. Jarad had only actually interacted with the kid for a few minutes, but he already felt that when Sky was unhappy, almost anyone would do anything to try to make him cheerful again.

I must be becoming softer than I thought… 

"R-really? I-I guess you're right…" whispered Sky, trying to smile through his tears, "B-but I can't help feeling if I had done something different…If I had stayed with my parents or Tolsimir…maybe I could have helped…"

"There's no point in thinking of what might of have been, Sky. We need to decide what to do next so you don't end up like them. Look, both your parents and Tolsimir would have wanted you to be happy and healthy if they were still here, wouldn't they?" asked Jarad.

"Y-yes…" stammered Sky.

"Then you've got to do your best to keep going. You can't just lie down and die. You have to honor their memory by doing what you can to avenge their deaths! Sitting and moping won't help you at all!" said Jarad, his voice serious.

"Y-you're right, Mist- I mean, Jarad! They wouldn't want me to be sad. I'll still miss them, but they'll always be in my heart, right?" asked Sky, looking up with a tear-stained face.

"Yea, sure kid," grunted Jarad, hastily wiping away Sky's tears with the edge of his arm sleeve.

Sky hugged Jarad more tightly, even managing a small smile.

"Thanks, Jarad!" he whispered, "You're the best! I love you so much!"

"Woah, kid! Don't get all sappy on me now!" said Jarad, gently extracting himself from Sky's grasp, "I finally thought of someone who owes me a favor, and I think he'll be able to help your situation."

_He'll also most likely be interested to find that this Sky kid might be the key to all the deaths going on around here…_

"Really? Even if he's Golgari, if he's as nice as you, I'll be happy!" giggled Sky.

Jarad couldn't help cracking a smile, though he hid it by stating hastily, "Don't worry, kid, he isn't Golgari. He comes from the very respectable Boros guild. He isn't a savage brute like me."

"Oh no, Jarad! You're not a brute at all!" cried Sky in shock, "You're the nicest, most kindest, most wonderful person ever! I'm so sorry, I should never have judged you or your clan."

"Well, some of us are probably as bad as you've heard, but we don't measure nearly as high in cruelty and torture as the Rakdos do," replied Jarad grimly.

Sky shivered involuntarily at the word Rakdos. Sheltered as he had been, even Sky had heard of the infamous group. The Rakdos Cult was a guild that lived for the sole pleasure of torturing and killing anyone and anything, even if that person happened to belong to the Cult itself. Their leader, the evil demon Rakdos the Defiler, was known far and wide for his cruelty and the tortures he devised for the unfortunates he managed to capture in his Dungeon Palace, Rix Maadi. No, the Golgari were definitely not even close to the level of cruelty the Rakdos reveled and took pride in.

"I don't wanna ever see anyone from the Rakdos," whispered Sky, holding onto Voja's fur, the wolf growling at the mere mention of the name, as if he understood.

"Don't worry, my friend has been dealing with the Rakdos before you were even born. He won't allow them within even a few feet of you," replied Jarad encouragingly.

"I hope so," whispered Sky, shivering with fright, "I truly hope so…"

"Two hours!" cried Kos through gritted teeth, "A whole two hours of my day wasted because some stupid Selesnyan orator decided to take his bloody old time on the road to Rav. Look, Fonn, if he isn't here by now, he's not going to get here anytime soon. Maybe those addle-brained members of your conclave got the day wrong or something!"  
"They don't get the day wrong, ever!" said Fonn coolly, "They share a unified consciousness, Kos. I've told you this before. One of the trees bonded with the Conclave saw Tolsimir passing through and deduced he would be here at this time."  
"A tree?" asked Kos incredulously, "We're here because a tree just happened to sense Tolsimir happily jaunting through the forest with a little elf kid? Of all the ridiculous…If your dryad thingies can talk to trees-!"  
"They bond with trees, and they're not dryad thingies. They're the Selesnyan Conclave," began Fonn, sounding as if she had explained the concept at least half a dozen times before.

"I don't care if they're Mat'selesnya or Razia herself!" Kos exploded, "All I know is that Tolsimir and the kid aren't here, and that soon I'll be going crazy enough to talk to rocks! Why look, there's one right now. Hi rock! Will you be a good boy and bond with me? I know, you can take my place here and tell me when that no-good Tolsimir shows up!"  
"Kos! How dare you call Tolsimir names?" cried Fonn, stamping her foot, the most anger she had shown all day, "What is wrong with you? Before, you at least had some sense of respect. Have you lost all of your manners since becoming a Shift-Captain? Has pride really addled your brains that much?"

Kos glared at her, but when he saw she was truly hurt, his gaze faltered and he stared at the ground.

"Sorry…" he mumbled, "I didn't mean to snap at you or desecrate your religious beliefs. It's not pride that makes me irritable, far from it. It's knowing that every hour I'm away from my office, a hundred new stacks of paper-work are being shipped to my desk. The pile never gets any smaller, Fonn, only larger! Why, I might come back to find my desk broken from all the paperwork and the papers scattered everywhere! Did I ever tell you I hate filing?"

"I get it, I get, Kos," said Fonn, a genuine smile on her face, "I forgive you. I think even I would be testy if I had that much work. I guess promotions aren't all they're cracked up to be, huh?"

"No, they're not!" said Kos with a grimace, "I wish to goodness that Migellic would either let me bloody retire or bloody hang me by my boots from the gallows so as to put an end to my bloody misery!"

A warning look came into Fonn's eyes.

"No, Fonn!" said Kos, "I will not have you lecturing me about my language. And I'm bloody well finished with waiting. I'm an investigator, and if Tolsimir hasn't got here yet, he either likes to bloody well take scenic routes or something, or someone must be holding him up. For all we know, he could be dead!"

"Kos! Don't say that!" cried Fonn, her face growing pale, "He is the great Tolsimir Wolfblood. He has never left his duty unfulfilled, and I bet it's safe to say he wouldn't leave it unfinished now. But you are right; someone could be holding them up. I agree would should see if we can find any trace of him on the Northern Road."

In the middle of Fonn's words, Kos had already headed out of the city gates, and was jogging along the road. Biting back harsh words for leaving her behind, Fonn trotted after the Wojek.

"Kos, don't you ever think of anyone besides yourself?" she asked when she caught up to him at last.

"Only when my job forces me to," said Kos with a brief grin.

Fonn smiled at that and elbowed him in the ribs.

"You're an old softie, Kos!" she giggled, "You're more worried about Tolsimir than you care to admit."

"No…no, I'm not!" retorted Kos, "All I care about is that flippin' pile of paperwork that is probably eating my desk like some foul Simic experiment gone wrong."

After another moment, Kos added, "And I don't relish the idea that if something happened to Tolsimir, something could have happened to the young child that was supposed to be with him. I mean, I think I was told the kid was only ten years old."

"Yes," said Fonn absently, as if her thoughts were somewhere else.

She involuntarily hid one of her hands behind her back, the one that had been cut off during the fight with the evil vampire, Szadek. Even though a synthetic replacement, courtesy of the Simic guild, had been established on the stump of her arms, she still made an attempt to hide it whenever she was worried or greatly troubled.

"Fonn? You okay? Are you picking up something with your elvish senses?" asked Kos, his voice quite serious.

"I-I don't know," said Fonn in a faltering voice, "I feel like…violence was done here. A duel took place…maybe more than one."

Kos, however, wasn't listening. He had spotted something gleaming in the grass, a glossy, almost shiny object that caught his eye.

"Fonn…" he said, his voice suddenly choked.

"What is it?" asked Fonn, immediately coming over to him.

"Does this look familiar to you?" Kos asked grimly, holding up the object he had retrieved from the ground.

It was a mask, but it wasn't just any mask. It was mask shaped like a human skull, gleaming, ghostly, and horrifying.

"I-it can't be…Jarad wouldn't…" began Fonn, but Kos cut her off with an upraised hand.

"He's Golgari, Fonn!" said Kos curtly, "And not only that, the guildmaster of the Golgari. But…I believe you're right. He wouldn't have attacked Tolsimir without a reason, certainly not if Tolsimir was guarding a child. I'm afraid, however, that we'll have some questions for him."

"W-what about your paperwork?" asked Fonn, "Don't worry, I'll carry on the investigation. This is Selesnyan business anyway!"

"The paperwork can wait," replied Kos, "And since your saintly guild has already asked our involvement, they cannot possibly back out now. I will follow through with this investigation, and I will have answers."

Seeing the steely look in his eyes, Fonn didn't dare contradict him as the two headed back towards the city.

Momir Vig, the elderly elvish wizard-guildmaster of the Simic Guild coolly applied deathwurt, a deadly and poisonous plant, to benigus likticious, a plant known for its natural healing properties.

"One a natural poison," he hissed, his voice a whisper, "The other a natural cure-all. Mix the two together…add heat…and…"

A blast of wind swept the room, knocking the chemicals Momir Vig was holding from his hands. The vials fell to the ground, splashing dangerous chemicals all over the floor. Momir Vig complacently leaped backwards, something someone of his age shouldn't have been able to do. Though his actions were calm, however, his eyes burned like fire.

"Who dares to enter my lab unannounced and uninvited?" asked Momir in a soft, almost gentle voice strangely belied by his smoldering eyes, "I will allow no interruptions during my most important research of biological benefits."  
"I am quite sorry for the mess," spoke a cool, calmly calculating voice, the source of which even Momir Vig could not identify, "But I had to be sure to get the attention of one as immersed in their work as yourself."

"You have it, but only for a moment. If you do not state a reason for you to be here that would be adventitious to me, I will be forced to set my…pets on you," spoke Momir, still in his grandfatherly voice, still with burning eyes.

"I will take only a fraction of your time, old man. You most likely will forget I was even here. In fact, I encourage you to," replied the disembodied voice.

Before words could come out of Momir Vig's mouth, a ghostly hologram appeared, seeming to dwarf the entire room. It was a hologram of a young elven boy with hair like spun gold and eyes glittering like emeralds.

"It is an elven child. I have no use for children," sighed Momir Vig, "I'm afraid your visit must now come to an end."

"Wait," hissed the voice, "And watch. Patience is a virtue. Surely, you of all people know this."

Momir Vig grumbled to himself, but turned his attention back on the child elf. For a moment, nothing happened, but then a golden aura surrounded the boy, and wildlife of all kinds shot up around him.

"What magic is this?" asked Momir Vig in amazement, "Some of these plants aren't even in season, yet they are blooming as if they had come to the fullness of their germination! It takes years for some of the experiments I performed to make these plants flourish out of season! Where is this boy? I must study him, he could be the breakthrough required in my research!"  
"I'm afraid he is being guarded by one of the fierce and barbarous Golgari elves, savage brutes that they are. Also, I fear that the Devkarian plans to hand him over to the Boros guild. If you wish him for your research, you must stop this at all costs! Once inside Sunhome, it will be well nigh impossible to kidnap the child," replied the voice.

"What do you hope to gain from this?" asked Momir Vig, his eyes narrowing, "You are not just showing me this out of the goodness of your heart."

"All I ask is a trifle. Once you have absolutely finished your research the boy, you will hand him over to us," hissed the voice.

"And who is this us, you are talking about?" asked Momir Vig.

"The less you know, the better…" whispered the voice.

"Say I believe you…how am I supposed to capture the boy before he can be taken to Sunhome?" asked Momir.

"Our…agents will push them into the underground, beneath your very section of the city. The rest will be up to you," replied the voice.

"I do not trust you completely, but such an opportunity for experimentation is very hard to pass up. It's done, then, I will do as you say. Just be sure you fulfill your part of the bargain," replied the elvish wizard, a hard glint in his eyes.

"Good…very good. Be prepared for your….experiment before night falls," laughed the voice.

Momir Vig was about to reply, but something told him the voice was gone. A feeling, the feeling of a certain presence in the room, had disappeared entirely. Momir Vig grimaced as he returned to his work. He doubted this person wished to use the boy for any good purpose, but the temptation of such a wondrous occurrence was stronger than his sense of moral right and wrong. He would do anything to be able to work with such a wondrous specimen, even if it meant the specimen's subsequent demise…

"Time to move! Up with you, dog!" growled Valhala, jabbing Tolsimir in the back with her sharp-tipped dagger.

"I'm getting up, Valhala," said Tolsimir patiently, as he did as he was told, "You don't need to poke me every chance you…ouch!"  
Valhala smiled wickedly at him.

"Do you have any more smart words for me, dog?" she asked in a honey-coated voice.

Tolsimir sighed and shook his head.

"Good, then produce your light thingamabobber and let's get going," replied Valhala.

Tolsimir refrained from pointing out that Valhala was just as capable as himself of creating a light source. He held up his hand, spoke a mystical word, and a floating green orb winked into existence, lighting the way in front of them. The two walked in silence for a long time, though Tolsimir was tempted to say something after Valhala had poked and prodded him with her infernal knife about fifty times or more for no apparent reason. He decided against it when he half turned to look at her and saw the dangerous light of pure hatred in her eyes.

_How could one who has been bathed in the light of Vitu Ghazi be so full of hatred and bitterness?_

Just before the silence became unbearable, a soft squishing sound echoed throughout the vastness of the underground.

"What was that?" whispered Tolsimir, any icy tendril of fear climbing up his spine.

"Keep moving," said Valhala through gritted teeth.

The sound, however, did not recede or grow less. As a matter of fact, it grew even louder and was accompanied by a low murmur, almost a growling sound.

"Valhala…" said Tolsimir, fear leaking just a bit into his usually calm voice.

"I hear it, and we're in trouble!" she snapped, breaking into a run, "Start running, but know I'll plunge a knife into you if you dare stray from my sight!"

Tolsimir sighed and began running, but no matter how hard the two pressed forward, the sounds became louder and louder.

Valhala muttered a vicious curse under her breath before she spoke, "Bloody things won't give up! Sounds like there're a couple of them too!"  
"Woodwraiths," said Tolsimir matter-of-factly, as if they were merely having a pleasant chat, "Creatures formed in the bowls of the earth from plants and ivy…Abominations of the beauty of nature and growth. They feed off the dead, but that doesn't mean they can't change the living into the dead in a single heartbeat."

"I know what they are, Tolsimir!" Valhala shouted impatiently, forgetting to address him with an unkind epithet, "And I know how to deal with maybe two or three. If there's a pack going after us….Wait! They are being attracted to your cretinous light! Extinguish it! Now!"  
"But Valhala…They can see better than we can in the dark," replied Tolsimir patiently.

"Be silent and do as I say!" Valhala practically screamed.

Tolsimir hesitated for a moment, and then complied, dousing the light and covering them in complete and utter darkness. As he ran, he could feel Valhala's breath hot on his neck. Suddenly, he heard her shriek and fall.

"The light, Tolsimir!" she screamed, "The light!"  
"But you said…" began Tolsimir.

"Forget what I said!" she hollered, "Get the bloody light on, or I'll skewer you!"  
Tolsimir calmly muttered an elvish sounding word, and immediately the green will-o-wisp began bobbing throughout the inky blackness. As soon as the dim after-image passed from his vision, he wished he hadn't created the light, no matter what Valhala had planned to do to him. Valhala was caught in snaky coils of ivy, and behind her were creatures that looked to be more like plants than living animals. In fact, it was impossible to see where each individual creature began and ended. Their mouths were open to reveal razor-like plants that looked horribly like teeth, and Tolsimir thought he glimpsed traces of red or black blood lining them. Tolsimir turned the other way, somewhat surprised yet relieved to find they had not been cut off in that direction. The Woodwraiths seemed intent on the prey at hand, and were paying him no more heed than a fly. He could run and leave Valhala to her fate, a fate she most certainly deserved after the way she had treated him. But did anyone deserve to be killed in such a horrible way, writhing in agony in the thorn like teeth of Woodwraiths, being drained of all life juices? After a moment, Tolsimir shook his head. No, no one deserved that fate, not even Valhala.

"Go, fool! Get out of here!" screamed Valhala as iron thorns grew from the ivy and pierced her body, "Do you want to share my fate? You don't want to help me after all I've done to you! Go, fool, go!"  
Tolsimir shook his head fractionally, and his entire body began to shimmer. He grew taller and taller, and his features became more and more fierce until it seemed he had transformed into a wrathful yet righteous deity.

" The light burn you, abominations!" roared Tolsimir in a voice that echoed throughout the vast reaches of the undercity, "Release the prisoner you have in your clutches, or the light shall burn your foul existence from this plane of existence!"

The vines wrapped around Valahla suddenly wilted and died, releasing her from their bloody grip. The Woodwraiths themselves took a few steps backwards in apparent fright. Tolsimir's illusion, for it was truly only a facade, may have been enough to drive the foul Woodwraiths away. Unfortunately, at that moment, a screeching bat flew straight into Tolsimir's face, breaking his concentration. He blasted it with a quick burst of light, completely disintegrating it, but with the loss of concentration he lost his grip on the spell as well. Immediately, he shrunk until he was again his original size, the illusion utterly broken. The Woodwraiths made frightening, oddly gleeful, blood lusting noises in the backs of their throats, if it could be said they even had throats. Before they could send their tendrils of ivy out, Tolsimir grabbed Valhala, who was now unconscious and riddled with wounds, and pulled her backwards. The Woodwraiths merely made even more disgusting noises and walked forward accompanied by the unique yet terrifying squishing noise. Tolsimir continued to back up, but he didn't notice the Woodwraiths had begun to come from behind. He nearly stumbled over one of the seeking roots the creatures were starting to send out. It was then he turned and saw from the light of the green will-o-wisp, that he was completely surrounded.   
"No, it will not let it end like this," whispered Tolsimir.

A muted whisper from Valhala arrested Tolsimir's words. He bent down to her, his face full of concern.

"Valhala, shhh…you must conserve your strength," whispered Tolsimir, fending off a seeking root with another burst of burning light.

"Firesticks…only thing Woodwraiths fear…" muttered Valhala incoherently, as if she were in a feverish dream.

For the first time, Tolsimir noticed a tight, compact satchel on her back. Gently, he opened it, still fending off the malevolent growth trying to grab and smother him as well as Valhala. Inside were many things, but a pack of rods glowing with a magical orange-red light drew Tolsimir's eye. Quickly, he fumbled with the piece of leather than held them together, grabbed one, and hurled it in the midst of the encircling Woodwraiths in the blink of an eye. The result was everything Tolsimir hoped for and more. The stick exploded with surprising ferocity, unleashing a torrent of fire, heat, and billowing plumes of smoke. The Woodwraiths didn't stand a chance as the fire engulfed them, burning their plant-like bodies to a crisp. A second firestick, followed closely by the third, caused even more confusion and destruction. The smell of burning and a strange, sickly odor that reminded one of humus soon pervaded the air. A fourth firestick at last forced the Woodwraiths to retreat. Killing and devouring a helpless, hopeless victim trapped in the underground was one thing; facing an enraged and potentially deadly elf was another.   
When the last, squishing echoes faded away, Tolsimir bent over the wounded Valhala. Whispering soothing words, he touched each wound, much the same as she had done for him just hours before. At last, drained of what little magical energy he had left, Tolsimir sank to the ground, even the will-o-wisp disappearing. Valhala would not awaken at the moment, and in his heart, Tolsimir feared she might never awaken among the living again. But he had done all he could for her, and was now far too drained in mind and body to work anymore elvish magic. Old wounds from the disastrous fall into the gorge began to plague him again, causing him to gnash his teeth in pain. At least the pain was good for at least one purpose. It kept him awake and alert for any other threats to himself or the unconscious Valhala. Now all he could do was watch warily and wait…

Jarad glanced around cautiously as he exited the Golgari underground, and then heaved a sigh of relief. None of his subjects had seen him, or the bundle in his arms, which contained the young elven child, Sky. And though he would never admit it out loud, the sweet and innocent Sky was slowly yet surely worming his way into Jarad's heart, becoming more and more precious each moment. But this was absurd! Jarad was the guildmaster of the Golgari, a race who wouldn't think twice about killing an innocent being, even one as innocent and adorable as Sky. Yet the feelings of tenderness in the warrior elf's heart would not go away, and neither was the sense of sorrow that was growing in him at the mere thought of having to part ways with the child. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Jarad waved his hand, removing the chameleon hex that had hidden Sky from view, as well as the white wolf trailing behind the two. The wolf seemed to sniff disdainfully at Jarad, but then resumed a cautious and wary expression, every sense alert for danger. Jarad looked down as Sky, only to find the exhausted child was fast asleep, his fingers enmeshed in Jarad's long black locks. Jarad briefly smiled in a fond manner at the child, marveling at how a Selesnyan elf could be so at ease with him, a Golgari guildmaster.

"Well, well, well. At last we see that Jarad, the great elven warrior, truly does have a soft side," said a playful, well-known voice.

Jarad glanced up in guilt, the smile slipping, and the child began to fall from his grasp as he started in surprise. Jarad caught Sky awkwardly, jarring the poor boy in such a way that it was impossible for the child to remain dormant. Sky slowly opened his eyes to look up at Jarad, who was grimacing at two people in front of them. Voja, however, had run forward to playfully lick the face of a young looking elvish woman. Behind her strode a dark-skinned man, dressed in the military uniform of a Wojek officer.

"What are you doing her, Fonn…Kos?" asked Jarad defensively.

"It is official business, Jarad. This is not a social call. It's funny how you knew we'd turn up here. One could wonder if you planned it," said Kos in a hard voice, before Fonn could answer.

Sky shrunk away from Kos, apparently disliking the officer's rough attitude, and clung tightly to Jarad.

"Are you accusing me of some crime?" asked Jarad heatedly.

"All I know is that we found your mask but no sign of Tolsimir, his wolf, or the elven child supposedly with him," replied Kos, his gaze stern, "And now you turn up here with both the child and the wolf. Where are you hiding Tolsimir? Or have you done away with him?"  
"Kos," said Fonn in a warning tone, apparent aggravation on her face.

"No, it's alright, Fonn," said Jarad icily, causing Sky to look up at him with wide eyes, "If Kos wants to believe I murdered Tolsimir and kidnapped this child and the wolf, then he can go right ahead and arrest me. Or, if he took the time to think things through in his thick skull, he could deduce that maybe Tolsimir had already disappeared before I found the child or the wolf. Maybe Tolsimir sent the wolf with the boy to reach the city before some imminent danger overtook them. And just maybe the danger did happen to overtake them, in the form of a lightning spewing freak, and oh, I don't know, maybe I just happened to appear on the scene and actually save the kid's life!"  
Kos looked stunned for a moment, and then nodded briskly, a hint of regret in his weather-beaten face, "I'm sorry, Jarad," he mumbled, "It's just all the cases and paperwork…I hate being a Shift-Captain. It makes me irritable."  
"That is the understatement of the century," laughed Fonn.

"So this truly is the Selesnyan child?" asked Kos.

"Yep, my Momma and Poppa were members of the Selesnyan Conclave. Well, at least they were before some bad men…killed them," Sky choked out, tears starting to glisten in his eyes.

"Oh honey," whispered Fonn, rushing over to him and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I'm so sorry….may the light of Mat'selesnya shine on their souls."

"Here…you take him!" said Jarad roughly, pushing the child into Fonn's arms, "I'm no good with kids!"  
"But I don't wanna leave you, Jarad!" wailed Sky, "Please, please…you can't leave me too!"  
"Don't worry," soothed Jarad, "I'm not going anywhere, at least not for the present. And…I didn't mean you're a troublesome kid or anything. It's just…kids don't seem to like me much."

"Well, I like you!" said Sky stoutly, "You're a really nice person, and you saved me from the really bad man!"  
"Jarad the hero for a ten year old?" murmured Fonn, her eyes twinkling merrily, "Who would've thought?"

"Ahem!" said Kos, clearing his throat loudly, "So we now can account for the elven child and the wolf. What I'd like to know is what happened to Tolsimir."

"I already told you," sighed Jarad, "Tolsimir wasn't with the kid when I found him. Look, I appeared on the scene just as this weird man was hurling violet lightning at the kid and wolf. Somehow, I don't know how, the kid was able to reflect the lightning bolts back at his attacker, though the creature didn't actually die. I finished it with a knife or two, but I don't think it would've survived long after the lightning struck it. Sky did most of the work, not me."

"Oh no, Mister Jar-I mean, Jarad!" cried Sky, his lower lip trembling, "I would've probably been really hurt if it weren't for you! I felt him amassing a terrible amount of energy, and I think he really would have hurled it at me, though I don't know why he hated me…I don't think I ever did anything bad to him. Why would he want to hurt me unless I had done something really bad to him?"

"Honey, he probably came from a vicious guild like the Rakdos or the Gruul. People from those clans, well, I know it might sound strange to a child like you, but they have no regard for life. They kill indiscriminately and without mercy," said Fonn patiently, "But don't worry about it, the Conclave will keep you safe."

"I don't want him going near any old Conclave!" Jarad suddenly shouted vehemently, causing both Fonn and Kos to turn on him with very surprised looks, "I mean, well, it might not be safe there, after what happened. Besides, that's the first place his attackers will look."

"It was one attacker, you said so yourself," replied Fonn, "And don't you dare insinuate the Conclave isn't safe. It has enforced new levels of security even learned wizards and elves would find hard to break."

"There have been other attacks on the kid," said Jarad, trying to keep from growling at her, "Why else do you think Tolsimir himself would be escorting a mere child to safety? His parents were killed in one of those attacks, and most likely Tolsimir was killed in the most recent one. Sky must have something these people want, or they wouldn't be after him so."

Kos' face took on a thoughtful yet worried expression as silence suddenly descended on the group.

"Y-you won't let the bad guys get me, will you Jarad? Or you, Miss…" began Sky, then stopped, at a loss because he did not know Fonn's name.

"Of course not, kid! They'd have to go through me to get to you, and that ain't never gonna happen!" exclaimed Jarad, thumping himself on the chest loudly.

"So full of himself, isn't he?" giggled Fonn, but after a moment, her face became serious, "And I'm sorry, dear, I never did tell you my name. I am Fonn, an elvish leved. My mount, Biracazir, is part of the Council now. The one with the pleasant disposition and the…receding hairline is Shift-Captain Agrus Kos."

Kos scowled at Fonn for a moment, but smiled at least semi-pleasantly at the boy in Fonn's arms, "Pleased to meet you. I promise you I will do anything I can to help you find a place safe from those who wish to do you ill."

"I still wish I knew what the attackers wanted him for," sighed Jarad, shaking his head ruefully.

"M-maybe they want me because of my…powers," stammered Sky.

"What powers?" asked Fonn, interest in her face.

Sky reached down to touch the hard, dirt packed road, and immediately his hand lit with a dull glow. A neat row of daises suddenly sprung from nowhere to cluster playfully around Fonn's feet. All three, the two elves and the human Wojek, turned to stare at Sky in amazement.

"I-I've never seen anything like it…Even Selesnyan Guildmages require time to develop and nurture their seedlings. Yours just seem to spring up naturally," whispered Fonn.

"But what use would these mysterious entities have for flowers?" asked Kos contemptuously.

"I have to agree with Kos on that one," stated Jarad wryly, "No, I think it has something more to do with the fact that he was able to counter such a powerful spell, the lightning spell I told you about. I didn't think anyone possessed such manna to completely reflect a hex of that magnitude."

"I-I'm not that powerful," whispered Sky, trembling, "I don't even know what I did."

"The Conclave will teach you to harness your powers, honey," whispered Fonn, though she looked unsure of her own words as she smoothed the child's hair back.

"We need to take him back to Sunhome first," stated Kos briskly, "He needs to testify on Tolsimir's apparent death. He may not have actually been at the scene, but he most certainly has vital information on the preacher's murderer, seeing as he was almost killed himself."

"You need to come too!" said Fonn, glancing sharply at Jarad.

"Yes, she's right," put in Kos, "Any information pertaining to this situation may help us in the larger threat on the community. You do know what I'm talking about, don't you? And if this child's the one they're after…"

"Woah, woah! Slow down there, Captain. I didn't say I was going anywhere. Besides, I promised I'd find the kid a safe place to stay, and I don't mean to leave him in the lurch," replied Jarad.

"You're the best, Jarad!" said Sky with a warm smile, "I only wish I could stay with you!"  
"Nah, kid. The Golgari underground's no place for a sunny thing like you," said Jarad, trying to ignore Fonn's tittering and Kos' slightly amused grin.

"Yes, he's quite right about that," said Fonn firmly, after the laughter had subsided, "You'd wilt in the Golgari realm just as surely as Jarad would be blinded in the beautiful sunlight. Besides, there are lots of nasty Golgari creatures who could do you harm, and even Jarad couldn't protect you from them all."

Jarad looked like he was going to give Fonn a piece of his mind, when Kos butted in, "If you two are done poking fun at each other, we'd best get the child to Sunhome before anything else happens!"

"Right!" said Fonn, immediately beginning to walk briskly, leading Sky gently along.

Muttering something about fool women, Jarad followed close behind. Kos brought up the rear, he himself muttering something about fool elves, while Voja bounded forward to match Sky stride for stride. The group walked in silence through the streets, exceedingly wary. None of the recent murders had taken place in an open place, but none of the adults were willing to take any chances. Sky was the first to break the silence.

"Why is everybody so quiet?" he asked in a hushed voice, "Are there bad things in the street?"

"Oh no, honey!" smiled Fonn, ignoring Jarad's raised eyebrows, "We'll be quite safe."

Kos' eyebrows shot up as well at that, but Fonn ignored the Wojek officer.

"Where are we going anyway?" asked Sky, falling back to take Jarad's hand with a smile.

Jarad looked surprised when Sky took his hand, but he didn't brush the child away or let go of his hand.

"We're going to Sunhome," the Devkarian replied.

"Sunhome? What's that?" asked Sky, tilting his head in a questioning manner.

"Ask Kos about it. I've only been there a few times myself," replied Jarad in a clipped, uncomfortable voice.

"Okay!" said Sky with a laugh, "I'll be right back!"

Falling back even further to where Kos was glowering at everyone and everything, Sky started jogging beside the soldier, having to quicken his pace to match Kos' long, confident strides. Fonn glanced in amusement at Jarad, who seemed to be somewhat shocked and slightly embarrassed, even a little confused. Fonn laughed silently to herself; Jarad really didn't know how to deal with affection.

"Mister Kos," began Sky hesitantly.

"Yea, what is it?" asked Kos, trying to smile at the kid, "And don't call me Mister Kos, it makes me feel old. Call me Kos or Captain Kos if you prefer a title."

"You are old, at least for humans," snickered Jarad.

Kos glared at the elf and he subsided with a chuckle.

"Umm, Captain Kos…I-I was just wondering what Sunhome is," continued Sky, apparently ignoring the interruption, "Jarad said he couldn't really explain it that well."

"Sunhome is the headquarters of the Wojek. The Wojek, of which I am a part, are kinda like the police force of the city. The Azorius Guild makes the laws, but we enforce them. Sunhome also acts as a barracks and a fortress in times of war, as well as a place to worship the angels," was the answer to Sky's question.  
"Angels? There are angels in Sunhome?" asked Sky excitedly, "I've always wanted to meet an angel! Do you think I'll get to?"  
Kos frowned slightly, though not unkindly, as he replied, "It's very strange, but the angels have not docked on Sunhome in quite some time. You see, the angels are usually floating around in their own fortress, but once in a while they do visit to answer prayers and deal with matters here. As I said, however, they have not been seen for a while. My friend, Feather, who is an angel herself, is in fact looking for them at the moment. She seems to think something is dreadfully wrong."

"Really?" asked Sky with wide eyes, "That's horrible! I hope the angels are okay!"

"What do you think they are, kid? Weak mortals?" snorted Kos, "I personally believe they're just biding their time, and soon they'll appear resplendent in all their fire and glory. Bah, angels always want to make an entrance!"  
"But you said that other angel was worried about them," persisted Sky.

"Eh? Oh, well, I…" stammered Kos.

"Cat got your tongue?" giggled Fonn from the front of the small procession.

"Why don't you keep your ears to yourself, woman?" growled Kos angrily.

Fonn continued walking as if she hadn't heard.

"Elves, always hearing want they want to hear…" muttered Kos, but when he noticed Sky looking up at him with a sad expression he added hastily, "I didn't mean all elves. You're a good kid, I just hope you don't grow up filled up with as many empty sayings as Fonn is."

"Fonn's not full of empty sayings!" said Sky reproachfully, "She's really nice!"  
"Everything's nice to you, kid," muttered Kos under his breath, but aloud he said, "Yea, yea, I guess you're right. Hey, I have an idea! Why don't you go talk to Jarad? I'm sure he's getting lonely over there by himself!"

"Kay!" giggled Sky, running back over to Jarad and taking the dark haired elf's hand again.

Jarad smiled genuinely at the child this time. No matter how hard he tried, Jarad honestly could not find any reason whatsoever to be annoyed with the bright, happy, bubbly child.

"So…did Kos answer your question?" asked Jarad after a slight pause.

"Yea, he's so nice!" said Sky with a laugh, "He said that Sunhome is like an army place, but angels come there too! He thinks they'll come back soon, even though they haven't in a long time. Just think, Jarad, a real angel! Angels are so wonderful and beautiful! I've always wanted to see one!"  
"Well, I hope you get your wish," replied Jarad, smiling again in spite of himself.

"Thanks, Jarad! You're the best!" said Sky with a sweet smile, hugging Jarad tightly.

After a few minutes, Jarad gently pried Sky away, though he was still smiling.

"He must really like you!" said Fonn without turning around, her voice filled with astonishment, "I thought all this time it was an act. Gosh, Jarad, what did you do to him to make him attached to you so?"

"He saved my life!" said Sky proudly, "So he's like my Dadda, who always protected me from everything bad…I mean, when he was here…"

Sky's happy smile turned into a slight frown at that, and he hung his head. It still hurt a lot to think of his parents, for they had only been torn from the mortal world a day or so ago.

"Don't cry, Sky," said Fonn anxiously, hastily retreating backwards to give him a comforting hug, "Everything will be okay."

"Y-yea, please don't cry Sky," murmured Jarad, squeezing the young elf's shoulder.

Sky wiped away his tears, trying to smile again.

"I know, I know. You're right! You both are so nice! You remind me of Momma and Dadda. If you got married, couldn't you adopt me and then you'd be my real Momma and Dadda?" asked Sky innocently.

Jarad and Fonn looked at each other for a moment in shock until Jarad burst out laughing.

"You must be kidding, Sky!" the dark haired elf said in between gales of merriment, "Fonn and I come from two totally different races. Besides, she would probably skin herself alive before consenting to even spend a day with me, much to her loss."

"Hmph! You've got that right, except for the part about it being a loss for me!" sniffed Fonn, turning away, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry, Fonn," said Sky timidly, seeing that the elven woman seemed uncomfortable, "I didn't mean to make you mad."

"You didn't make me angry, darling," said Fonn, trying to smile pleasantly, "I-Um, just never thought about getting married before, that's all. You could say I'm wedded to my work for the Selesnyans."

"As if," snorted Jarad, a teasing light in his eyes, "You'd be lucky if I'd even consent to go on a date with you. I have many admirers after all, and I'm not bad looking, if I do say so myself."

"Jarad, you have a very high opinion of yourself, but you have very indecent taste! You think I'd go pining after you like one of those Devkarian enchantresses? Please, save your vocal chords for something more important. Come Sky, we have nothing more to say to this lout!" said Fonn haughtily, leading a bewildered Sky behind her.

Kos grunted, which might also have been his way of laughing discreetly. Voja glided past Jarad, but as he did, the wolf seemed to give Jarad a "Nice going, elf boy. You really swept her off her feet!" Jarad glared at the wolf, but Voja merely stared back and then shambled off to trot at Sky's heels.

"We're almost there, just a bit further. I hope we can make it before you two tear each other apart," said Kos a few moments later, his grim voice belied by a merry twinkle in his eyes.

Jarad was about to reply, when a man stepped into view, a little girl clothed in white at his side. Sky looked once at both the man and the girl, gave a startled yelp, and fled until he was safely hiding behind Jarad. Voja seemed surprised at his friend's behavior, but sedately loped back to the frightened boy.

"Sky? Whatever is the matter?" asked Fonn in bewilderment, "This man is a friend; his name is Helligan. He helped us a little while back, just before the bicentennial celebration. He's a renowned labmage! And his little friend here is…"

"Her name is of no importance," said Helligan smoothly, in a voice that definitely did not sound like his own.

Kos had stepped forward, white-faced and gaping, his attention fixated on the white clad figure.

"Luda?" he whispered in a choked voice, "B-but you were dead! I saw you die!"  
"Silly Mister Kos!" she giggled, twirling around as she spoke in a slightly eerie voice, "I never died! Why would you think that!"  
"But I-I saw you," whispered Kos, not even realizing he was getting closer and closer to Helligan and the girl, "You're body…so cold…so lifeless."  
"I-I remember too," whispered Fonn with a nervous gulp, "I didn't actually see you…die, but Kos told me about it. It happened just before the goblin attacked us with that exploding bomb."

"Silly, silly, silly!" giggled the girl in an entrancing voice, "Come play with me!"  
"Yes, come play!" laughed Helligan, beginning to caper comically.

"Okay, I am not convinced!" said Jarad, folding his arms and standing in front of Sky stalwartly, "What has gotten into you, Helligan? Have you done experiments on her or something? One would wonder if you had experimented on yourself!"

Meanwhile, Kos was nearly on top of Luda, his eyes a mixture of fascination and disbelief.

"Kos, wait," began Fonn, biting her lip nervously.

"Come now, Fonn. There's nothing to worry about," said Helligan, sidling next to her, "We're friends, remember?"  
"Hey! You get away from her!" shouted Jarad, ramming into Helligan before the stunned labmage could react.

Sky cried out in fright once again, and ran to Kos, pushing him away from Luda just as the little girl transformed into a mass of writhing, deadly, pale-white worms.

"Lurkers!" screamed Fonn, just as the fallen Helligan changed into a writhing mass of worms as well.

Kos just sat on the ground, his eyes strangely hollow, not even seeming to notice the massive bulk of pale worms inching towards him.

"Captain Kos! Captain Kos, oh please snap out of it!" wailed Sky as the bundle of worms got closer and closer.

Just as the writhing grubs were about to engulf both Sky and Kos, the soldier sprang to his feet and pulled out a silver rod. He muttered a single word, and a blast of silver energy arced into the creature, pushing it backwards as it hissed and screamed. Kos grabbed Sky, lifting him off his feet, and ran towards Jarad and Fonn, who were fending off the other Lurker.

"This way!" roared Kos, motioning for them to follow.

As the two elves broke away from the attacking Helligan/Lurker, Kos placed Sky gently on Voja.

"Whatever happens, stick close to this wolf!" said Kos sternly as Sky nodded in understanding, his eyes wild with fright.

The five began running in the direction of Sunhome, which was no more than a mile off, when three more Lurkers came into view, blocking their way.

"Back, back!" shouted Kos, skidding to halt and running in a different direction.

As the group weaved their way through numerous streets, more and more Lurkers popped out of nowhere, and each time the writhing worms cut off the way to Sunhome. All paths that led away from Sunhome, however, were clear.

"We're being herded somewhere!" cried Jarad, sweating profusely, "Or else they would've simply killed us by now and taken Sky."

No one denied that is was Sky the Lurkers were after, for they knew it to be true.

"I could've figured that out in a heartbeat, genius," muttered Fonn as she felt her heart racing, "What I would like to know is where…"

"Never mind that, keep moving!" roared Kos as another batch of Lurkers popped into view, causing Sky to bury his face into Voja's fur in fright.

"Follow me!" shouted Kos, spotting a single alley that had not been blocked off.

"And where exactly does this lead?" asked Fonn as they turned into it.

"I think I remember this alley leads to the Simic section of the city," said Kos furrowing his brow in thought.

"Are you sure?" asked Jarad suspiciously, "Why would they be herding us into the Simic's territory? Surely the Simic guild isn't behind this?"  
"We'll know soon enough, because we have no choice!" stated Kos grimly.

Malevolent screams of fury echoed behind them, causing them to run faster. To their dismay, a large brick wall rose before them.

"Dead end!" cried Jarad in frustration.

"They're coming!" sobbed Sky, looking backwards, "Please, oh please, Jarad, Fonn! Don't let them get me! Please don't let them get me!"

"They won't sweetie, they won't!" said Fonn soothingly, reaching to lightly stroke Sky's hair as he clung to Voja's back.

"Wait! Here's something!" cried Jarad, kicking a manhole cover that had been hidden in the ground.

"The under-city?" asked Fonn doubtfully.

"It's the only way," said Kos firmly, "Jarad, get in there first and make sure there isn't anything waiting for us. I heard the Simic unleash their biological failures into the sewers. I'd rather not run into one of them."  
Without protest, Jarad dropped lightly through the hole.

"Hurry!" cried Fonn, trying to keep the urge to scream back as the Lurkers came nearer and nearer.

Just as the Lurkers were within a foot or two of the ones waiting above the ground, Jarad poked his head out of the manhole.

"I can't detect anything dangerous at the moment. But that doesn't mean anything. I probably wouldn't be able to detect some of the Simic creations, especially if their scent was masked in some way," Jarad stated.

"I-I don't wanna go in there," whispered Sky, "I feel something bad."  
"Bad or not, it's sure a heck of a lot safer than staying out here to be devoured by Lurkers!" said Kos, firmly picking Sky up and handing him to Jarad.

Jarad immediately dropped into the darkness below, bearing his precious burden. At his heels leaped Voja, anxious to be as close to Sky as possible, followed by Kos. Last of all came Fonn, who immediately made a disgusted sound as her feet touched the squishy refuse that covered the bottom of this portion of the sewers.

"I think we lost them," whispered Jarad as Fonn replaced the cover, plunging them into utter darkness.

Sky whimpered in fear, clinging to Jarad tightly.   
"Don't worry," soothed Fonn, sensing the terror emanating from the child, "I can provide us with a little light, though not much."

She whispered something in a strange dialect, and a tiny ball of white light appeared and floated through the air to hover over Sky.

"We must press on. We'll find a way out of here, and then get back to Sunhome as fast as possible," said Kos briskly.

"Wait! Don't go any further!" cried Sky, his eyes as round as saucers.

"What's wrong now?" asked Jarad patiently.

"Something bad," whispered Sky, "Maybe worse than the Lurkers."  
"I don't…" began Fonn, but stopped as the entire surface they were standing on began to rumble and shake.

"Just my luck. It's always out of the Rakdos pot and into the demon's stomach for me, isn't it?" muttered Kos, fervently wishing for once that he had just stuck with his paperwork. 


	5. Simic Stratagems

Chapter 5

The most successful of Simic creations is cytoplasm, a living, symbiotic substance that feeds off genetic rhythms and strengthens its host in return.

Tolsimir woke with a jolt and looked around, but he could see nothing but darkness spreading in all directions. Mentally, he berated himself for his stupidity. Of course it was dark; he was in the underground where light rarely, if ever, penetrated. Concentrating his magical energy, which had been somewhat renewed by his rest, he created a small, green will-o-wisp. Looking around in the dim light, he saw Valhala was gone. His heart sank, though he didn't know why. It wasn't like he expected Valhala to thank him or anything. She most likely still hated him, and he was just grateful she hadn't decided to slit his throat before she left. The only explanation he could think of for her surprising act of kindness in allowing him to live was that he had basically saved her life minutes…or could it have been hours…ago. But the hatred emanating from Valhala every moment he had been in her presence had seemed a force to be reckoned with. Why would she have a sudden change of heart now? Shrugging his thoughts away, he assessed his current situation. He was alone, slightly wounded, and without anything but his magic to sustain him in the underground. The elven orator realized it could be days before he would find anything sanitary to eat or drink, and he was already quite parched and famished.

"Nothing for it but to go on," he whispered, "Mat'selesnya, I entrust myself to your care and protection."  
Having uttered a single, quiet prayer, he stepped forward into the darkness, his light bobbing around him.

The rumbling in the Simic sewers grew in intensity, until it became a deafening roar. Sky cried out in fright, burying his head in Jarad's arms.

"There's no growth down here," he sobbed, "It's so dead…I'm so scared, Jarad!"  
"Shh," soothed the elven warrior, "I promised to protect you, didn't I? Nothing's gonna happen to you. Besides, Fonn, Kos, and Voja are here to protect you as well."

Sky looked up, and tried to nod in reassurance, but his lower lip still trembled as a few tears streaked down his face. Kos had drawn a silver rod from his uniform, and was holding it in a firm grasp, while Fonn was now equipped with two daggers, deadly in appearance. A small knife slipped into Jarad's free hand, though he held tightly to Sky with the other. Voja barred his teeth in a snarl, looking prepared to face a pack of Indrik stomphowlers. As the entire group tensed, an eerie blue light began to play about the sewers. The light grew in intensity until the entire area seemed to be bathed in a blue brilliance, causing it to become almost as bright as day. Three hulking figures stepped into view. At that moment, all could see that the blue glow was coming from a strange substance nestled on the backs of all three of the mutants.

"Sporeback trolls," whispered Fonn in fright, "W-we can't face them! They're nourished and strengthened by cytoplasm! Depending on the amount they've been injected with, they could be stronger than ten humans!"  
"We have no choice but to fight!" barked Kos, "Our backs are up against the wall! Jarad, your job is to stay back with Sky at all times. If any of the creatures even comes near him, do anything you can to keep him safe. Even if you think you'll have a better chance against the Lurkers, do what you must."

Jarad nodded, his grip tightening around the trembling Sky's shoulders just as Voja leapt forward, the first to attack. In a blur of white, it launched itself into one of the trolls, powerful enough to knock even that hefty creature to the ground. The other two merely stared at their fallen companion, and then began to walk forward slowly, their eyes on none other than Sky.

"See how you like this!" shouted Kos, aiming his silver baton at one of the creatures, and muttering a magical word.

A ball of silver energy shot out and smashed into one of the advancing creatures, but the burst of manna only seemed to enrage the troll. With surprising speed, it barreled into Kos, knocking him off his feet.

"Captain Kos!" cried Sky, struggling to wrench himself from Jarad's firm gasp, "Jarad, Jarad…we have to help him!"

"You're the most important one, Sky. I promised to keep you safe, and I'll fulfill my promise no matter what it takes. Kos has faced tougher opponents in the past, he'll come out alright," replied Jarad, gripping Sky even more tightly, if that were possible.

Meanwhile, Fonn had intercepted the last of the three trolls, and tried to strike at it with her dagger. The dagger, however, merely glanced off its thick hide. With an evil chuckle, it swung a massive fist, slamming it into her midriff, causing her to go down, gasping for air. Kos and the other troll were still tangled up in a whirlwind of feet and fist, but it was obvious Kos was getting the worst of the battle.

"Please, please!" moaned Sky, "We have to help them!"  
"I would, but we're going to have to worry about ourselves now," said Jarad as the hulking monstrosity that had knocked Fonn to the ground lumbered forward.

Jarad quickly placed Sky behind him, brandishing the small knife. The creature merely laughed as Jarad threw the pointed object. The knife nicked the mutant's skin and fell harmlessly to the ground.

"Uh-oh," whispered Sky.

"Have a little faith, Sky. It's life ends…now," said Jarad with a satisfied smile.

The troll looked as if it would prove Jarad's words wrong, when it clutched the tiny wound, roaring in agony. In another few moments, it fell to the ground, stark and lifeless. Kos, however, was still being beaten brutally. He already sported a black eye and a few bruises. In comparison, the troll fighting seemed to have no wounds at all, other than a nasty welt on its shoulder, presumably from the manna burst that had struck it at the beginning of the battle. To make things worse, Kos had been forced underneath the troll, and the creature seemed to be taking a sadistic pleasure in trying to squish the unfortunate Wojek officer to death. Suddenly, a blurred shape flew through the air and landed on the creature's back. A sickening snap reverberated throughout the gloom of the sewers, and the troll collapsed, dead.

"Get it off me, fools!" Kos roared angrily, "Now! It's gonna kill me!"  
Jarad loped over to the fallen Kos, guiding Sky gently beside him, and easily lifted the troll's body off of Kos to find the enraged Captain glaring at him.

"Took you long enough," muttered Kos.

Sky suddenly broke from Jarad's grasp with a cry of, "Fonn!"  
"It's…okay…Sky," said Fonn, gasping for breath, "Just got…the wind knocked…out of me. I'll be…alright in a…moment. Kos…was beaten…much…worse than I was…"

Sky looked uncertainly at her, but in another second he was by Kos' side.

"Please, Captain Kos, hold still," he whispered in a soothing voice, "I don't know how, but I was able to heal Voja's wounds before. Maybe I can do something about yours."  
"Eh, magic?" asked Kos, looking at Sky suspiciously.

"Maybe you shouldn't drain yourself, Sky," said Jarad doubtfully, "If anything happens later, which I'm sure it will, you'll need every scrap of manna you can save."  
"I can do this, Jarad!" said Sky, just the slightest bit stubbornly, "I couldn't help at all in the fight cuz I'm such a weakling, but this is a way I know I can help!"  
Jarad looked at the boy for a moment, then nodded, "Alright, do as you must."

"Hey! Don't I get a say in this?" growled Kos, trying to get up, but a booted foot pushed him back down.

"Jarad, get your foot off of me!" roared Kos, looking up at the wiry elf.

Jarad merely grinned wickedly, "He's all yours, Sky."

Sky looked at Jarad in shock, but said nothing. After a moment of just staring, Sky sighed and placed his hand over one of Kos' nastier wounds.

"This shouldn't hurt," Sky said in a low voice, "And I'm sorry Jarad's holding you down, but when he's in this mood, I don't think an enraged siege wurm could stop him."  
"What mood?" asked Kos irritably, "His mood seems just fine at the moment, it's just him stomping me with his fowl boot that upsets me!"  
"The more he smiles and jokes, the more serious he is," replied Sky with a smile of his own as he easily healed the wound.

"What're you talking about?" demanded Jarad, "Who told you such a thing?"

Sky merely grinned and shook his head, continuing to work with great concentration on Kos' wounds. Only when all the major wounds were healed did Jarad allow Kos to get to his feet. By that time, Fonn had joined them as well. Sky hurried over to hug and praise Voja, who miraculously did not seem to have retained even so much as a scratch in his fight with the troll.

"Should we keep going?" asked Fonn in a tired voice, "That attack nearly did us all in."

"You mean, it did you two in. I downed the troll with merely a poisoned dagger. You got the wind knocked out of you and Kos got beaten to a pulp!" said Jarad with a triumphant smile on his face.

"This is no time for arguing," interjected Kos, sending a nasty look in Jarad's direction, "Now, we must go on. We cannot face the Lurkers, for I can't believe they have retreated from their position yet. There may be worse things down here, but if we can find a manhole leading to the surface closer to Sunhome, we may be able to reach the fortress unnoticed."

"What if we're blocked off by those Lurkers even there?" asked Fonn with a shiver.

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," replied Kos grimly, "Now, Jarad, you keep a hold of Sky. He is definitely the target; did you see how those sporebacks went after him? We saw that Voja is more than capable in battle, so he'll proceed in the front, if any of us can get him to understand, that is."  
Fonn nodded and went over to Sky and the wolf, whispered something to the boy, who in turn whispered something to the wolf. Voja seemed to nod in comprehension, and then trotted over to the men, though he kept a wary eye on Sky. Fonn led Sky back to Jarad, though she sniffed disdainfully when the dark-haired elf grinned impishly at her. At once, the wolf trotted forward, followed by an enraged Kos, Jarad and Sky in the middle, and finally Fonn in the rear. Their only light source came from the tiny ball of light Fonn had conjured.

After a few moments of walking in silence, Sky finally spoke up, "I don't like this darkness…it's scary. I wish it were brighter down here."  
At once, as if some benevolent angel had heard his wish, the sphere of light expanded in size and magnitude.

"What did you do?" asked Fonn, her face suddenly pale, "I've never felt such a concentration of manna from a child."  
"All I did was ask it to get brighter," said Sky in a matter-of-fact voice, "I guess it listened to me."

"I-I don't think light can just listen to people, dear. It's an inanimate object," replied Fonn.

"The point is we have more light!" said Kos, rudely interrupting the conversation, "You don't need to get into the finer details or anything! You can teach him all about magic once we get out of these accursed sewers and you have him back in your precious Conclave. For now, just let him be!"  
"It's alright, Captain Kos," murmured Sky, "I don't mind. I actually wanna learn more about my powers."  
"Yea, well, we don't need any distractions right now," said Kos, turning to look back at Sky for a moment and then resuming his original position of marching just behind Voja.

Fonn stuck out her tongue at the 'jek's retreating back, much to Jarad's amusement and Sky's surprise. Once again, the group traveled in silence, when Voja suddenly bounded back towards the group, growling fiercely.

"More trouble?" asked Jarad.

Sky, pressed against Jarad's side, could almost feel the muscles of the elf tighten in apprehension. Without warning, a shockwave burst upon the group. Nothing seemed to happen to Kos, but Jarad was forced to one knee. Sky and Fonn, however, were the ones most affected. Fonn was thrown against the wall while Sky was hurled from Jarad's grasp to crash into the elven woman.

"What in the name of Razia was that?" asked Kos in a shocked tone.

"It hurts…it hurts," moaned Sky, clutching Fonn, who seemed to have recovered.

"There, there…" whispered Fonn, "It's over now."

Almost as a useless, reflexive action, Kos grabbed the silver baton he kept strapped to his waist. Well, he would have grabbed it if it were there. His hand met a few fragmented shards, which were all that remained of the magical instrument.

"Darn!" Kos cried loudly, "Stomphowler!"  
"A stomphowler?" echoed Jarad, who was on his feet now and glancing warily around.

"Yes," said Fonn slowly, "They can create a shockwave that easily destroys magical artifacts in the blink of an eye. But I've never heard of the shockwaves hurting people."

Another shockwave suddenly followed the first, this time flattening Jarad to the ground, smashing Fonn into the wall once again, and completely knocking poor Sky out. Voja howled angrily upon seeing Sky injured and trotted to the elven boy's side, licking his face.

"The cursed Simic must have bred a mutation in the creatures to cause their shockwaves to not only break magical artifacts, but to harm creatures who naturally possess a large amount of manna as well," Kos cried out, running to make sure Fonn was alright.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," said Fonn as Kos tried to help her up, "I'm more worried about Sky."  
Jarad was already kneeling by the unconscious boy's side, cradling him in his arms.

"Sky, Sky…wake up," said Jarad softly, concern written all over his face.

Kos and Fonn were soon at the boy's side as well, when another magic-nullifying shockwave broke over the group. Jarad held onto Sky tightly, but even with all his effort to resist the effects of the shockwave, the dark haired elf was dashed into the wall. Fonn faired even worse, cracking her head on a protruding pipe, and falling to the ground, senseless. The light she had created immediately went out, plunging the sewers into utter darkness.

"Fonn! Not you too!" cried Jarad, struggling to his feet with his burden.

"I'm not a healer, and neither are you!" cried Kos frantically, somewhere in the blackness, "They both need medical attention. I say we get out of here, Lurkers or not."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," said Jarad grimly, staring at something behind them.

"What do you mean, not…" began Kos, growing red in the face.

The Wojek officer stopped, however, when he was able to discern what Jarad was gazing at. A complex network of crisscrossing webs completely barred their way back towards the manhole that they had entered the sewers from. The webs shimmered eerily, now the only source of light in the light-forsaken underground. The threads looked as if they were somehow made of an aqueous substance.

"They look easy to break through!" scoffed Kos.

"They're aquastrand webs, spun by aquastrand spiders. Their webs don't need to be strong," said Jarad, a serious look on his face, "They contain a toxic agent which completely paralyzes their victim. They can then inject venom into the creature, and turn the unfortunate captive's insides into water. I don't believe it would be a pleasant experience."  
"Then we must go forward!" stated Kos in determination, as he finally found Fonn's unconscious body and picked her up, "I have Fonn. We'll have to go slower, though. We don't want to jar the injured, or harm them anymore."

"I guess you're right," sighed Jarad, groping his way in the darkness.

A pair of yellow eyes suddenly appeared in front of the elf, causing him to jump in surprise. He sighed in relief when it merely growled at him with an oddly reproachful look, a look only seen on a wolf that seemed to have as much empathy as a human being. Something else stumbled into Jarad in the darkness, followed by a barely whispered curse.

"I guess that's you, Kos," said Jarad wryly.

"It's me," replied Kos, fervently wishing there was at least a miniscule source of light, "Stick close, we can't risk getting separated in this darkness. Who knows if we'll ever find our way out again."

"How are we going to find our way out period?" sighed Jarad.

Voja suddenly let out a howl and trotted forward a bit, looking backward a moment later as if to make sure they were following.

As Kos started forward, Jarad gripped the officer's shoulder.

"Following a wolf?" hissed Jarad in a disbelief, "It's an animal, and…I don't think it likes me!"

"Tough luck. Wolves have a keen sense of smell. If anyone or any creature can get us out of this accursed tomb, I'm willing to take a chance," replied Kos, glaring at Jarad though he knew the elf couldn't see him in the darkness.

"Fine!" replied Jarad after a moment's hesitation, hurrying after the wolf before Kos even had a chance to react.

"H-hey, I said to stick together!" cried Kos, stumbling after Jarad.

When Kos finally caught up to Jarad, he and the elf continued to follow Voja in silence. Only once did Kos speak up.

"I'm surprised we didn't run into those Indrik stomphowlers by now. It's quite surprising those bloody Simic haven't unleashed a few more shockwaves," were the words Kos spoke.

Jarad shrugged noncommittally in reply, "Maybe they didn't want to risk us being able to kill it or neutralize it somehow. And I think they realized their first three shockwaves did plenty of damage. They've slowed us down enough that they can pick us off easily if they chose to. What I'm more worried about is why they haven't acted yet."  
"Yea, that scares me too," replied Kos with a sigh.

After about twenty more minutes of following the snow-white wolf, gleaming in the darkness, Voja suddenly stopped and barred its fangs in a growl.

"What is it, Voja?" asked Kos anxiously just as Fonn moaned and stirred in his arms.

"W-where am I?" she asked, blinking repeatedly, "What happened?"  
"We're still in the sewers, Fonn," said Jarad's voice, coming from somewhere behind her, "That…wolf seems to think it knows where it's going. Personally, I think it's just leading us on a wild goose chase."  
"Don't you ever underestimate ledev mounts, especially one like Voja! I've never met such an intelligent mount before. Not even Biracazir has the range of emotions Voja seems to possess," replied Fonn while calmly reassuring Kos she could walk and forcing him to let her go.

Jarad muttered something under his breath, but Voja was still growling at something the others couldn't see.

"Fool wolf," muttered Jarad, just as something slammed into his back, sending Sky flying from his grasp.

"What was that?" cried Kos.

"Sky! Something knocked him from my arms!" shouted Jarad, panic creeping into his voice for the first time.

Fonn immediately held up her hand, and a ghostly light flickered into existence, yet nothing was to be seen.

"Sky! No! Where is he?" cried Jarad, panic beginning to rise inside him.

Suddenly, a haunting, terrifying cry split the dank, under-city air. A misty tendril shot from the darkness to strike Voja. The wolf, which had already seen the snaky coil coming, easily dodged it, but Kos wasn't as nimble on his feet. The tendril snaked around the Captain, ensnaring him completely.

"Kos!" cried Fonn, muttering something under her breath.

A burst of fire sprang up, striking the tendril. Another cry echoed throughout the vast reaches of the underground and the tendril retreated, seeming almost as if it were withering and dying. Fonn pointed in the direction the tendril was fleeing, and spoke another elven word. Immediately a brilliant flash of light illuminated the area that she had casually pointed to. Fonn gasped in horror, and even Kos stumbled backwards in surprise. Jarad's eyes widened, but that was the only sign he showed of being disturbed. The creature that faced them was completely created out of a rippling blue substance. It seemed to have no definitive form, except for two arm-like appendages, each "arm" tipped by rather wicked-looking claws. The three were even more horrified to see that one set of claws gripped Sky, who was still unconscious, though they could see the boy was beginning to stir just a bit.

"It's got Sky!" Fonn whispered, as if she couldn't believe it.

"Not for long!" replied Jarad, running at the creature full speed and extending one of his legs.

Voja barred it fangs and dove into the creature. Both wolf and elf collided with the monster at the same time, and both were shocked as they passed right through it. The creature seemed as if it were shaking with laughter, its aqueous body rippling like a bowl full of jelly.

"Beast!" Jarad spat out, "Vermin! Take this!"  
Jarad threw a dagger into the creature, but once again the dagger only passed through it, seeming to cause no damage.

"My turn!" said the creature in a hissing, almost indiscernible voice.

Before anyone had time to react, tendrils sprouted from the creature's body, entwining around each and every of the people attacking it. The tendrils seemed more solid than the creature itself, and as the elves, the human, and the wolf writhed in its grasp, it felt to them as if their very sources of energy were being drained away.

"We have to do something!" roared Kos, flailing wildly.

"That's not going to get us anywhere," Jarad pointed out mildly, though all his concern seemed focused on the unconscious elven child gripped tightly in the "claws" of the creature.

"I don't see you doing anything!" Kos shot back.

Any other words he might have spoken were cut off, as a decent sized fireball seemed to come from nowhere to strike the creature in its torso, at least the spot struck looked like the monster's torso. The gelatinous beast screamed in fury and pain, its entire body rippling, and the tendrils holding its captive writhed, foamed, and disappeared. Unfortunately, Sky still remained in the grasp of its solid "claws". As soon as he was released, Jarad made clicking noises in the back of his throat. A swarm of black creatures seemed to ooze from every pore of his body to surround and engulf the water-based monster, until it was covered with black, writhing objects. The only spot of the creature left uncovered was the set of claws that held Sky. The monster roared in anger, but to no avail. The black creatures Jarad had unleashed devoured it in a matter of minutes, leaving no trace of the horrible apparition. The two sets of claws fell to the ground with a clang, apparently the only solid part of the water-beast's body, sending Sky's prone body sprawling on the ground. Before anyone could get to him, a woman suddenly darted from the shadows to grab the poor child.

"Keep your filthy hands off him, woman!" Jarad roared, rushing at her.

Something glinted in the dim light, and if Sky were awake, he would've felt something cold yet soft pressed against his neck.

"Jarad, stop!" roared Kos with such authority in his voice that Jarad immediately skidded to a halt.

"Better," whispered the woman, her sugarcoated voice full of condescension, "I would have hated to sever the boy's head with a cytoplasmic knife. It would've been quite a messy business."

"Let him go," cried Jarad in a strangled voice, "Let him go, or so help me!"

"You had best watch what tone of voice you use with me, young man. This cytoplasmic knife can easily behead your friend in a mere heartbeat. That is certainly not enough time for you to reach him, and even if you did, you most definitely do not have enough strength to overpower me," laughed the woman haughtily.

"What do the Simic want with Sky?" asked Fonn, trying to keep her voice level, "He's only a child. I assure you, if you harm a hair on his head, the Selesnyan Guild will be forced to take aggressive measures. You are guilty even now of breaking the guildpact!"  
"I'm afraid you are quite wrong there, dear," replied the woman patronizingly, "You are all trespassing in Simic territory. We have the right to deal with intruders as we wish."

"Would you like responsibility for hindering an official Wojek investigation?" Kos cried, speaking for the first time and flashing his badge, "If you do not, you will return the child to me."

"I'm afraid I'm in no position to give you the child. Momir Vig himself wishes to examine him. I assure you, the great wizard has no intent of harming him. In fact, he seemed quite fascinated with the boy. Besides, I see no papers or badges to identify the child or the guild he belongs to. How do I know you are not lying to try and take him for your own purposes? If you would like to request the child to be returned to you, you will have to officially take it up with Momir Vig, equipped with all the necessary papers and so forth. I can even provide you an escort to the upper city, where I am sure you will have no trouble at all in retrieving the official documents. Until then, I bid you adieu," replied the woman smoothly.

"Wait! You must release him! You have no right to experiment with your filthy chemicals and toxins on him! I won't allow it, I won't!" Jarad yelled.

The woman, however, had already disappeared into the shadows, taking the captive Sky with her. Suddenly, a cry was heard, a cry that dashed Jarad's heart to pieces.

"Jarad! Dadda! Fonn! Momma! Help me!" cried Sky's distinct voice, and then all was silent.


	6. Crazed Doctor

Chapter 6

Four parts molten bronze, yes…one part frozen mercury, yes, yes…but then what? 

---------------- Unknown alchemist

Sky moaned and blearily opened his eyes. He vaguely remembered shouting for his friends, but then someone had spooned a sticky sweet substance into his mouth. He hadn't exactly passed out, but the type of narcotic his captors had forced into his system seemed to have placed him in a state in between unconsciousness and full alertness. Only now had he finally been able to break the thin, almost insubstantial film that had held him back from full alertness, and a strange scene was unveiled before his eyes. He lay on a gleaming white table, so spotlessly clean that the elven child could see his own reflection staring at him from its surface. Sky struggled to sit up, but to his great surprise, he found he didn't have the strength to do even that simple action. Panic welled up inside him, and a scream escaped his throat. But even his scream only came out as weak wail of fear and confusion. Calming himself, he turned his head to see if he could spot anything that could give him a clue to his whereabouts.

Only now did he notice the entire room was filled with plants and different types of foliage. In stark contrast to the plant life were large computer screens with dizzying readouts of numbers, statistics, parameters, and other scientific jargon. As he craned his neck to study his surroundings further, careful, well-modulated footsteps echoed throughout the room. A bald, elderly elf suddenly appeared, hovering directly above Sky's innocent face. The elderly elf was clothed in blue and green, and odd attachments stuck out from his suit in seemingly random places. Though the old elf was smiling, Sky's eyes widened in fright. It wasn't that the elf himself was frightening; it was just the emptiness Sky could see in the elf's eyes. It was an emptiness that had long ago replaced any emotion and passion the elf had ever had, leaving only room for the emptiness, which spurred him on to greater and greater experiments, no matter what the cost might be. Sky shook the nightmare of the elven eyes from his head, however, as the elder began to speak.

"Welcome to Novijen, the Heart of Progress, and the greatest Laboratory of the magnificent Simic Guild. Here we research ways to better help the plants and animals who are steadily being pushed out by the other, more barbarous guilds," said the elderly man in a warm, grandfatherly voice that belied the emptiness in his eyes, "I am Momir Vig, Visionary of the Simic. I have stood as guildmaster for many generations, and I hope that with your help I shall soon be able to bring the wonder of nature back to this disgusting and dank city."

"I-I don't know why you kidnapped me," whispered Sky in a frightened, weak, syrupy voice, "I-I don't know how I can help you. Besides, if you force your way with the other guilds; I'm sure it will lead to war. And war is awful and will do more destruction to plants than all the guilds who don't respect nature put together could ever do."

The "speech" seemed to make Sky lose even more of his energy, and he rested his head on the cold, hard surface, gasping weakly.

"I'm sorry we had to kidnap you," sighed Momir Vig, though sorrow did not even seem to touch his eyes, "But those vicious people you thought to be friends were really your enemies. They wanted to hurt you. I want to help you and your affinity for plants. No, don't deny it, I know of your special abilities. It is amazing how you can cause plants long dormant to germinate in full glory in any season. I suspect you may even have the power to cause growth out of nothing using your extraordinary powers."

Sky might have actually believed Momir Vig's words, if he had not seen the emptiness in the old elf's eyes. As such, words that Momir Vig had somehow seemed to make warm and grandfatherly to others appeared to be deceptive and hollow in Sky's ears.

"My friends protected me from the creatures that infest your sewers. I would have been killed if it weren't for them. With all due respect, sir, I do not believe you, and I will not help you. I would help you if you actually had emotions, but I see that you have killed them and stilled them inside of yourself. B-but if you awakened your kindness and true compassion for living things again, instead of viewing everything as an experiment, maybe I would help you," whispered Sky, his voice slurred and thick, most likely the after-effects of the narcotic.

Momir's eyes took on an odd, almost sorrowful, almost regretful look. But though Sky could see the regret and sorrow surfacing to touch the elf's eyes for the briefest moment, the emotions disappeared just a millisecond after that.

"No, it's too late for me now," whispered Momir after a heartbeat's pause, "And I'm sorry it has to be this way Sky, but if you will not help me willingly, I will have to force you to do my will. Even if I have to somehow extract the power from your body, leaving you cold and lifeless, I will do it. It will be in the name of science, and maybe it will finally bring back my emotions, my lost empathy."

"P-please, please don't," wept Sky, "Y-you're mad, you're mad! Come back to yourself; I know you can do it!"  
"Mad, child? Perhaps I am mad. Perhaps the very day I became the Simic Visionary, the master of the Simic guild, maybe that was the day I went mad. Who can say? Personally, I believe we all have some sort of madness in ourselves, a madness that is only waiting for a chance to get escape. But whether I am mad or not, I have created wondrous cures, vegetative life, and creations that have benefited all of society. What does it matter if I now wish to be repaid by those who now belittle my creations or take them for granted? Who could care less if I wish to harm those who have harmed me by their mockery, their incredulity, and their indifference?" replied the Simic guildmaster, his voice growing in an almost insane type of rage, its mask of grandfatherly deception disappearing.

"You can't hurt people just because they hurt you!" cried Sky, now openly sobbing, tears running down his face, "It isn't right, and it isn't just. You can't force others to your way of thinking; you have to persuade them by peaceful means. I know it hurts when they harm you, believe me, I know! But you can't retaliate in anger. They will feel just as hurt and enraged as you if you give them grief in return for grief. There will be a never endless cycle of violence and revenge. It will never stop, never stop…"

Sky suddenly stopped, not even realizing what he had just been saying. Had it really been him who just said those words? He felt almost as if he had been possessed by a greater and more powerful being, a benevolent and wonderful being that loved him and cared not only for him, but for all beings of every race, gender, and creed. Momir Vig seemed unaffected by Sky's words, or the words of whoever had spoken through Sky. The old elf was in too much of a fiery rage to listen to reason at the moment, no matter who might supply it. He suddenly grabbed a knife shining with an odd chemical liquid, and held it in trembling hands.

"I am sorry to do this, but in the name of science I will use this cytoplasmic knife to take your heart and your soul and trap it forever in a containment tube. Then I shall be able to study and eventually utilize your powers for the rest of my days!" cackled Momir Vig, raising the knife high into the air, though his hand was still trembling.

"N-no, don't!" Sky screamed, trying to roll off of the table but only succeeding in moving about an inch, "Please, please don't kill me! There must be a better way, a good way we can help everyone without violence!"

Momir Vig looked into Sky's eyes, eyes filled with terror and fright, and yet also with a certain type of dignity that made one ashamed of even thinking of harming the possessor of such eyes. Momir Vig stopped for a moment, his entire body now shaking along with his hand.   
_It's not possible! His eyes…they look exactly like Minera's eyes looked on that fateful day. Minera, my darling Minera, you must forgive me! I did not mean to harm you, but the experiment went awry. But there is no going back for me now. I will do what I must to give this city back to nature once again! Besides, I'm doing it for you! It's what you always wanted, isn't it?  
_ A certain hope dawned in Sky's eyes when Momir Vig hesitated, but the hope was promptly extinguished when the elvish wizard once again raised the knife directly over Sky's heart. The regret Sky had seen in Momir's eyes for another, fleeting moment, had disappeared once again.

"This is the end, and I pledge myself to the consequences!" cried Momir Vig.

"No, no," Sky cried, choking on his sobs, "You mustn't! Please, oh please, sir!"  
Momir began to plunge the knife forward, and Sky closed his eyes. It seemed at that moment, however, as if time itself slowed.

_Hush, my darling. Don't cry, my love. I watch you and care for you always from above. I may not be with you, and things may be dark. But don't despair; don't give up hope! The power inside you will lead you to me, and the light alone will make you free. So hush, my baby. Please, don't cry. Death cannot touch you, so do not cry, child of mine.  
_ These words seemed to echo in Sky's head in the form of a beautiful, haunting lullaby. Just as the knife reached a point only inches from the young elf's heart, screams echoed throughout the vast expanse of Novijen. The knife halted its descent, and Momir whirled around just as a large, hulking figure crashed into the room. The creature was a Minotaur, half-man, half-bull. In his hands he wielded a heavy, dangerous looking axe.

"Borborygmos! You filthy son of a Gruul! How dare you interrupt one of my most important experiments in ages!" roared Momir Vig in a voice no one had ever heard the old elf use before.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Me no care about your stinkin' experiments! Me have come to take your experiment! You stupid little elf cannot stop me!" laughed the hulking Minotaur.

Wordlessly, Momir Vig produced a small, gun-shaped object, and fired at Borborygmos. A disk flew from the object to strike Borborygmos, breaking in half as it collided with the monster. A thin haze surrounded Borborygmos, and Momir Vig smiled in satisfaction. The smile faded when Borborygmos merely sneezed.

"Oooh! You use fancy magic contraptions? Me show you all we Gruul need is brute force!" roared Borborygmos, swinging his large hammer.

"Fascinating! He must have developed an immunity to the toxin," were the last words Momir Vig spoke before the massive hammer came down to strike his skull and knock him senseless.

At least, to most people, if any others had been watching, it would have looked as if the hammer struck the wizard a mortal blow. In Sky's eyes, however, the great Minotaur seemed to shift and warp, taking on the shape of a black, shadow like creature, dark pitch-black wings sprouting from its back. And the creature did not strike Momir Vig with a hammer, but with a plain, metal rod crackling with lightning. Sky gasped, and as the creature turned to look at him, it once again became Borborygmos. Slowly, the hulking figure trod over to Sky, and looked down at the boy, an oddly intelligent yet cruel gleam in its miniscule eyes.

"You Sky! You come with me!" roared the monster without a preamble.

"Y-you! You're not Borborygmos!" cried Sky, "I saw your illusion! That's all it is! Nothing more! You're really something else!"  
The Minotaur screeched as it suddenly lost its illusory shape and once again became the hideous nightmare with wings of darkness.

"You are truly more powerful than you look, child!" hissed the shadow in an odd, almost duel voice, one soft and hissing, the other dark and deep, "But you will come to serve us for our pleasure, and when we are through with you, you will curse the day you were born!"

"S-stay back! I walk in the light of Mat'selesnya, and the Selesnyans will not allow you to get away with this!" cried Sky, though he was even more frightened now than when Momir Vig had threatened him with a knife.

"Tsk, tsk! It seems you will need some lessons in manner, child. Allow me to provide you with the first one!" hissed the nightmare almost gleefully.

In one, fluid motion, the creature flipped Sky onto his back and drew back one of its massive claws. With a cry of pleasure, it sank a single claw into Sky's spine, causing the poor, innocent child to writhe in agony and pain.

"It's a shame I can't prolong this, but I have work to do!" hissed the vile apparition, "There will be time for torture later!"

A giant shock suddenly coursed through Sky's tiny body, deadening his already damaged nerves, and causing him to lose consciousness for the third time that day. The last thing Sky heard was the creature laughing and crying at the same time, almost as if it were sharing his pain in a strange, psychotic kind of ecstasy.

A ghostly, feminine figure seemed to appear in front of Tolsimir Wolfblood, still trapped in the ravine he had been hurled into by the evil, masked figure. He shook his head, trying to dissipate the vision. For of course it had to be a vision! The elven preacher was parched, hungry, tired, and in his opinion, he had lost half his wits facing the horrors of the underground. Raising his hand, he tried to summon strength to blast the hallucination with his last bit of magical energy. Muttering an elvish word through dry, cracked lips, he waited expectantly for the burst of fire that should have followed; yet nothing happened. He had truly come to the end of his magical reserves, and he knew that he would now be at the mercy of the denizens of the deep reaches. He would be sucked into the clutch of the undercity, never to be heard from again, and never to know the fate of the dear Sky.

Why wouldn't that accursed ghost or vision or whatever it was just leave him in peace to die? Was the thing actually beckoning to him? What did it want with him? It was probably some poor soul forced into the services of some disgusting being that used it to kidnap unwary and crazed people forced to wonder the dark turnings of the underground. And yet…there was something beautiful and wonderful about this apparition. Was it the fabled Avatar of Hope, the creature rumored to appear at the darkest moment of one's life to lead that person to safety? Or was it the Spirit of Selesnya, the spirit who beckoned one to enter the light at the moment of death? Whoever it was, Tolsimir believed it would be better to follow this beautiful and benevolent being, even if it meant his death, rather than go mad and die in the underground. Slowly, he took a few tottering steps forward. The apparition smiled at him briefly, and turned around, leading him through countless passages, twists, and turns.

Once, Tolsimir tried to speak to the spirit, "Who are you? Are you come to take my soul to be joined with the great consciousness of Mat'selesnya? If so, please do it quickly. I am weary of this undercity, and I fear I will not last much longer on my own."  
The being turned to look at him, and a sense of infinite love and mercy seemed to emanate from the creature, causing Tolsimir to feel that no matter what happened, as long as this spirit was with him, he would be safe. Even in death, this being would continue to protect him and love him. Sighing almost rapturously, the elven orator followed the apparition once again. Suddenly, a speck of light appeared in his vision. Tolsimir blinked, and rubbed his eyes. When he still saw the light, he blinked and rubbed his sleeve over his eyes once again but when his vision cleared the light still shone, a wonderful and joyful symbol of hope. The apparition looked back at him, smiled once again, and vanished. Putting thoughts of who on earth the heavenly being had been out of his mind, he hastened towards the small beam of light. After all the darkness he had been immersed in, the light seemed as bright and painful as a strobe light, but Tolsimir hastened to it like a man dying of thirst hastening towards a stream. When he reached the light, Tolsimir saw that it illuminated a lift, the very object Tolsimir had been searching for, the only object that could free him from the underworld. Hastily stepping inside, he pressed a button and crossed his fingers, praying for it to work. Just as he was about to give up hope, the rusty, ill-used gears began creaking and turning, and the entire lift began moving up.

"Up!" he whispered hysterically through cracked, dry lips, "Freedom! Light!"  
As soon as he broke through the surface, he saw it was night, and the moon and stars hung in the sky. As he stumbled out of the lift, he had to shut his eyes to shield himself even from the faint light of the moon, for any significant amount of light hurt his eyes after having been so long in complete and utter darkness. He fell to the ground, unable to go any further, but he blessed Mat'selesnya for allowing to him to remain alive, to finish the job he had begun. He was alive, and hopefully Sky was alive as well. He would find Sky and bring the child safely to the Conclave. He owed Veldria and Galladran that much, for they had died to keep Sky safe. And if his life was required of him as well, he would gladly give it if it meant that the poor child would be safe and happy in the arms of the sacred and holy Dryads of the Conclave.

Jarad roared in frustration for what seemed the hundredth time as he threw a large rock into the webs that cut him, Fonn, Kos, and Voja off from going after the woman who had kidnapped Sky.

"Jarad, please," whispered Fonn in a trembling voice, putting a hand on his shoulder, "We can't break the webs. If I had food and rest, I might have been able to summon a fire large enough to destroy it, but in my present condition I cannot. We'll figure something out Jarad, but venting your anger won't help matters!"  
"I don't care!" cried Jarad stubbornly, "I promised Sky I would keep him safe! I promised him, Fonn! And at the first sign of danger I was unable to do anything! I hate them! I hate the cursed Simic! How could they be so cruel? So…so spiteful? He's only a kid!"  
"I surprised to hear you say that, Jarad," muttered Kos, "I thought you Golgari didn't mind torture, death, and things like that. In fact, I've heard many a Golgari declare that life and death and just a continuous cycle, unbroken and beautiful."

"You keep your mouth shut!" Jarad shouted.

"Kos, don't make things worse," sighed Fonn with a warning glance at the Wojek veteran.

Kos grumbled something under his breath but didn't say anything out loud. Jarad turned away, growling in frustration. Without warning, the Golgari guildmaster punched the wall with enough force to cause a part of it to break in hundreds of rocky fragments.

"Jarad! Stop! This isn't helping anything! We have to think rationally!" cried Fonn, grabbing his arm.

"Oh sure, think rationally!" yelled Jarad, "Sky's been captured by the Simic who are going to perform who knows what kind of awful and disgusting experiments on him! We're trapped here by stupid aquastrand spiders, and if we make on wrong move we'll end up as spider fodder!"

"If only Feather were here," sighed Kos, "I'm sure she'd know what to do."  
"Yes, Feather…She never returned from looking for the other angels, did she? Where are you, Feather?" asked Fonn, her eyes worried.

What Kos would have replied, no one ever would ever know. The web that had been created to hold them in just as the lady had disappeared with Sky suddenly erupted with a violent burst of flame. A flaming brand shaped like a sword sliced whatever remained of the webs, and eerie screeches echoed through the vastness as the aquastrand spiders burned and died. Kos and Fonn stared in outright surprise at the figure that stepped calmly through the burned and blackened strands of what remained of the aqueous webs. Jarad and Voja, however, were unfazed. The figure looked to be a human woman, but from her clothes to the way she tilted her head one could tell she was anything but human. Her feathery wings, spread in a majestic gesture, also served to disprove her humanity. Her red-gold hair looked almost to be on fire, and her eyes seemed to flash with flames as well.

"F-Feather!" stammered Kos, "How did you get here?"

"I told you many times before," said the angel in a half-regal, half-patient voice, "I know when I am needed! It is called prayer, Kos. How many times must I tell you before you retain it in your memory?"

"It's wonderful to see you, Feather!" cried Fonn happily.

Jarad and Voja, however, were already rushing towards her.

"How far to the surface?" asked Jarad quickly.

"Do not worry, it is just a short trip to the lift I used to get inside," replied Feather steadily, "But what is the problem? How did you get stuck down here?"

"Kos'll fill you in on the way," said Jarad in a clipped voice, running past the angel with Voja at his heels.

Kos and Fonn joined in with Feather, who fell in behind the dark-haired elf.

"There have been a series of murders over the past few weeks," said Kos as they ran, "The victims all blonde-haired, green-eyed elves. Jarad found an elven boy with blonde hair and green eyes being attacked by a strange being, but was able to save him. Jarad brought the kid to us and we were going to take him to Sunhome, but we were attacked by Lurkers and herded into the Simic sewers."

"For some reason, the Simic actually attacked us and kidnapped Sky," Fonn continued when Kos ran out of breath, "Even now, we believe they have taken him Novijen, and we need to rescue him before the Simic can do anything awful to the poor child!"

"Why all this for a lone child? Why the murders? Why the Simic? The Simic are not usually hostile," said Feather thoughtfully as they stepped into the shaft that would lead them to the surface.

"We haven't figured that out yet," admitted Kos.

"But he does have unique powers with plants, and an unusual talent for healing, especially for one so young. Learning to heal is a long and arduous process. Even I only know enough to heal minor wounds. Sky healed Kos' wounds, which were much more than minor, when he was injured by sporeback trolls," interjected Fonn.

"Then I will help you recover the child," replied Feather steadily, as if it were the only decision in the world, "The Simic have clearly broken the laws of justice by kidnapping a lone child. They will pay in full according to guildpact law for their transgressions."  
"B-but we can't just go into Novijen and demand that they release him," stammered Fonn, "Even the Simic have soldiers of some type, and many are powerful mutants or biological creatures."  
"Ha! The Simic are cowards and weakling!" laughed Jarad as they emerged into the streets of the upper city, the moon and stars now hanging in the celestial sphere, "They won't be able to put up much of a resistance! You saw that the human Simic hid behind their creations. They're just a bunch of pushovers and cowards who seem to deal in kidnapping children!"  
Voja barked sharply, seeming to strangely agree with Jarad, though this was most likely the first time.

"It's not as simple as that," Fonn began to argue.

"Justice will be upheld!" stated Feather is a grand voice as she spotted Novijen looming in the distance, "If they resist the judgment of the Boros, all the other leagues will declare war on them. Even if we fail in our original objective, others will take up our cause!"  
"Do you even realize how things work down here, Feather?" asked Kos incredulously, "You should know by now that the guilds are always looking for ways to undermine the guildpact. You certainly have lived on the surface long enough doing penance or whatever…"  
Kos looked up just in time to see Feather flick a gaze of cool anger at him, a look that made him wish the angel had acted in outright rage. For many years, Feather had been serving the human Wojek guild as a sort of penance for an unknown offense in the heavenly realm. For a long time her wings and her power had been bound, but during the bicentennial disaster, Kos had freed her from her bonds, though it had been without the permission of the other angels. Feather had taken the matter of what she probably saw as a complete act of disobedience and betrayal in a stride, but she still was very touchy on the whole subject of her fall from grace and her subsequent acts of penance.

"I know that if we do not act quickly this innocent boy's life might end in the hands of the Simic," replied Feather in a voice so frosty, Fonn actually shivered.

"Q-quite right, Feather, quite right," replied Kos in a shaky voice.

The group traveled doggedly in silence until they reached the great, biological laboratory and city of Novijen. Long, precariously thin bridges led to the city itself, which hovered like a giant bubble over one of the few remaining natural lakes in the entire city of Ravnica. To Kos' surprise, there were no guards at all on any of the bridges, and a deathly quiet had seemed to settle over the entire area.

"Why is it so quiet?" asked Fonn nervously.

Kos shrugged as he replied, "Maybe Jarad's right. Maybe they are all spineless cowards, even when they have creations to do their bidding."  
"Come," said Feather in her imperious voice, beginning to cross the nearest bridge, "There is no point in discussion."

The others quickly followed, Jarad and Voja soon outpacing the angel in their haste. The two stopped, however, when they reached a large metal door, barring their progress.

"Ummm, should we knock or something?" asked Fonn nervously.

In reply, Feather strode forward and rapped on the door with her knuckles, the sound somehow echoing grandly and cutting into the stillness.

"We are representatives of the Boros Legion, the Selesnyan Conclave, and the Golgari Guild. Charges are being brought against you for unprovoked kidnapping of one who belongs to and is under the protection of the Selesnyan Conclave. If you do not wish to incur further charges and penalties, I would suggest you open this door. Now!" spoke Feather in a voice even the bravest of souls would fear to defy.

When nothing happened, however, a hard glint came in Feather's eyes.

"I see you have taken an unwise course in ignoring my words. Your silence has been deemed as uncooperativeness and an unwillingness to work with the laws of Ravnica. These penalties can and will be brought against you when you are placed before the Azorius in trial. I will now proceed to break the door down. It is suggested that you move out of the way before I do so," said Feather calmly, though her voice was still as cold and hard as steel.

She whispered a single, angelic word and the door suddenly blasted inward, shattering into pieces. Fonn and Jarad stared at her in open amazement, while Kos, who had seen her work only one spell before, was only a tiny bit less boggled than the elves.

"Do you mean to stand there all day?" asked Feather with an amused smile.

"Of course not!" said Jarad huffily, the first to recover from the shock.

The dark-haired elf strode inside the building, followed quickly by Voja.

"I-I didn't know you could do that!" stammered Fonn.

"Why don't you do that more often?" asked Kos in awe.

"It is best not to flaunt your power unless you have to," replied Feather primly as she headed inside, Fonn and Kos following her a moment later.

The three stopped, however, when they saw Jarad kneeling over a guard lying prone on the floor. When they looked around the room, other guards were strewn on the ground in awkward positions, all with the mad, fearful gaze of death. There was no blood, which was odd, and no apparent wounds on any of the victims, which was even odder.

"W-what happened?" breathed Fonn.

"It seems justice has already been served to them," replied Feather coolly.

"How can you be so calm in the face of such death?" breathed Fonn in a reproachful voice.

"Wojek officers see death all the time. It's almost a requirement to steel yourself at the sight of it, no matter how gruesome it might be. It doesn't mean we're any less appalled by death than other people; we just know how to control our emotions," replied Kos, though Fonn noticed he was white-faced and clenching his hands into fists tightly.

"They seemed to have died suddenly," said Feather as she knelt by one of the dead bodies, "Heart failure, or maybe deprivation of oxygen. There are certainly enough viruses, bacterium, and chemicals that could have done such in a thing in Novijen."

Fonn stared at Feather in horror. How could the angel be so pitiless, so devoid of emotion while she was having a hard time trying to keep from sicking-up? Before the leved could say anything, a pitiful moan sounded from somewhere in the room. Feather immediately rose and hurried over to the source of the pitiful sound, finding a quivering yet uninjured Simic human shaking with fright in a corner.

"P-please! Don't hurt me!" she stammered, "If you want Momir Vig and that boy, they're upstairs in Momir's own lab. Go there, just leave me alone!"

"Don't worry, we won't hurt you," said Feather sympathetically, "Please, won't you tell us what happened here?"

"Borborygmos! It was him, him and a whole troop of Gruul savages! They completely overwhelmed all the guards, and killed most of them!" sobbed the woman, "All our precious experiments are for naught now! They destroyed so many vital instruments, so much precious greenery! It was horrible, horrible! Leave me, let me die in peace of grief!"  
"Shh, it'll be alright," said Fonn in a soothing tone, though it was hard for her to forget that it had been a Simic woman who had mercilessly threatened Sky, "You can rebuild and redo your experiments. And know the Gruul will not escape justice."

"Yes, they shall pay in full for their transgressions!" said Feather loudly, almost as if she just liked to hear herself say that sentence.

"I guess we know why they didn't bother to answer the door now," muttered Jarad.

The woman whimpered loudly, backing away from the group.

"I've told you all I know! Leave me alone now, I said! Let me die in peace!" she practically screamed, "We will never rebuild, never regain our lost knowledge!"  
"Knowledge can be replaced, but life cannot," replied Fonn softly.

"Keep away! Just go! Go, I tell you!" shrieked the woman.

"She's too far gone, Fonn," said Jarad in a gentle tone, one he rarely used, "Come, we've got to find Sky. If he was harmed in the Gruul attack…"

"Tell us, where are Momir's quarters?" asked Feather softly, "Tell us that, and we will leave you in peace as you have requested."  
"Take the hoverator to level fifty. That entire section of Novijen is reserved for Momir Vig! Now do as you promised and leave me!" cried the woman.

"Come," said Feather, walking briskly in the direction of the hoverator, blatantly ignoring the other dead bodies strewn along the way.

"This doesn't make sense," whispered Fonn, "The Gruul don't just randomly attack the strongholds of other guilds. They usually prefer to strike easy prey, prey that won't fight back. And yet it seemed the Simic were completely and totally unprepared for any type of attack. That is strange, even for those who spend all their days in searching for answers to biology questions."  
"I cannot answer your questions," sighed Kos, "Maybe a Gruul strike force just suddenly went on a suicidal rampage, stirred by bloodlust or something. I'm as clueless are you are."

Suddenly, Fonn's eyes widened.

"Y-you don't think they could be after Sky as well?" she whispered.

"We'll soon find out," said Jarad grimly as the entire group entered the hoverator. Feather pressed the large, red button numbered fifty. The screen mounted inside the hoverator flashed, and scientific equations appeared. At once, the hoverator began to ascend rapidly, and after a few moments, it stopped.

"That's odd," murmured Kos, "Don't you think this Momir Vig would have the entrance to his private lab guarded by at least a security key or something?"

"That does not matter," replied Feather as they stepped out of the hoverator, "All that matters is that we find this child of yours safe and unharmed. But it seems we now have two matters to bring before the Wojek league. The matter of the Simic guild's kidnapping charges and the Gruul's unprovoked attack on Novijen."  
Two large doors made from a heavy metal barred their way into Momir's lab, but as soon as the group stepped close to them, the doors electronically opened, gears whirring. They stepped inside to find the entire place had been trashed. Chemicals, bottles, vials, electronic equipment, and plants had been strewn all throughout the room. At first, none could see any sign of life, but soon Feather's sharp eyes detected Momir Vig himself behind a gleaming white table smattered with a small amount of blood. The elvish wizard looked at them with a mixture of fear and defiance, his body shaking, as if it had been shocked with a substantial amount of voltage.

"W-what do you want? You cannot be in here! Most important experiment of my life…Minera, my dear…didn't mean to…no, you're still alive! You have to be! You can't be dead! I-I'm sorry Sky, but this is how it must be. I will have your….Borborygmos! You will leave at once! Leave, I tell you! Nooooo! The boy is mine, my experiment! With him, nature shall rule once again, and all you foul guilds cast out!" cried Momir Vig in a crazed voice.

"He disgusts me! It is quite apparent he viewed Sky only as an experimental creature," said Feather angrily, "I see he is far too deranged now to be of any help to the investigators we must call here. But it is pretty much a fair assumption that the Gruul were after Sky. Not only that, they were led by Borborygmos himself!"  
"I guess we'll have to make a trip to Sunhome to get investigators over here," sighed Kos wearily, "Though I fear the longer we delay, the slimmer our chance of finding Sky will become."

"Have no fear, I have brought a carrier falcon with me," replied Feather, who was already writing down the note and placing it in the small satchel the falcon wore around its neck, "Fly, Farsight, fly!"  
The bird screeched once and flew out a window that had been shattered and broken.

"So the labmages and investigators should be here soon," sighed Fonn, "Should we wait for them? We may be the only ones coherent enough to testify around here. I mean, look at poor Momir."  
The elven wizard was still babbling aimlessly, almost in a childish voice now, simply ignoring their presence.

"We have no time to waste!" cried Jarad angrily, "Sky is in even more danger if the Gruul have captured him! What if they decide to kill him just for sport?"  
"I don't think the Gruul are as bloodthirsty as the Rakdos, but you are right. Sky is still in significant danger. Much as I hate to leave, and though I know I will probably be punished for this, I have to agree with Jarad," sighed Kos.

"As do I," stated Feather.

Voja barked his agreement.

"I guess there isn't much of a choice for me, then, though I would have agreed as well," said Fonn with a short laugh, "I can't imagine the dear boy in the hands of the Gruul. He's just too sweet and innocent. This all wouldn't have happened if only we had hurried right to Sunhome instead of aimlessly arguing about it."

"There is no use in thinking of what might have been," said Feather shortly, "The best thing we can do for the elven boy is acting on what we know here and now. We have a good lead that the Gruul have taken him, so we go after the Gruul. More specifically, we go after the group led by Borborygmos."  
"No sense in delay," said Kos briskly, "Let's march!"

Jarad smiled softly to himself. This would be a most interesting hunt…


End file.
